“I am getting to know her. Because I hired her. I don’t generally invite my employees to live with me.”

“Well, this isn’t a general kind of situation, is it? This is special.” She sighed dramatically. “But if she doesn’t feel welcome at your place, I suppose she can stay here in your old room.”

I cringed at the thought of my mother filling Blair’s head with nonsense about me, but figured it might be best for the time being. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll bring her over after dinner.”

“Oh, not tonight,” she said. “That room is full of junk. I need at least a day or so to clean it out. You can be a gentleman for one more night, can’t you?”

“Stop playing games, Mom.” I didn’t trust myself to be a gentleman for one more night. One more hour was going to be hard enough.

“Griffin Dempsey, you heard what I said. Now mind your manners around that young lady, and at least try to be charming. You might not think her showing up here was a sign, but I do! And if you’re not careful, someone else is going to come along and sweep her off her feet—someone like Enzo Moretti! Now there’s a gentleman!”

I was so annoyed and hungry, I lost it. “Oh yeah? Well, Moretti was just telling us last night about a threesome he had recently. Is that the kind of gentleman you think I should be?”

My mother was silent for a moment, and I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing her having a heart attack. And then.

“That is exactly what I’m talking about! He charmed two women into being with him. All I’m asking you to do is work on one.” Then she hung up.

I was still standing there staring at my phone when Blair came hurrying outside. “Thanks for waiting,” she said breathlessly. “I’m ready now.” She stopped, noticing my aggravated expression. “What’s wrong?”

“My mother.”

“What about her?”

I shook my head. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s go eat.”

Side by side, we walked a few blocks down to The Bulldog Pub. It was a warm night, and on the breeze I caught the scent of vanilla again.

“So listen,” I said, putting a little more distance between us. “My mom is still going to make some calls in the hunt for a room for rent until Labor Day, but in the meantime, she offered the spare bedroom at her house.”

“She did? Oh my goodness, that’s so sweet of her!”

I frowned. “She can absolutely be sweet when she wants to, but I need to warn you, she has ulterior motives where you’re concerned.”

“Ulterior motives like finding you a wife so she can finally get those grandchildren she wants?”

“Exactly.”

Blair laughed, elbowing me in the ribs. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a husband. Establishing my independence and getting a business up and running are my priorities for the near future.”

“I know that, and you know that, but she can be ruthless when she gets an idea in her head.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just so grateful to have somewhere to stay. And of course, I’ll pay rent. Did she mention how much the room would cost?”

“No, but that’s something you can work out with her. That reminds me—I don’t normally pay my employees cash under the table, but since you’re here such a short time, I’ll do it that way if it works for you.”

“That’s perfect.”

“There’s just one more thing,” I said as we neared the pub.

“What’s that?”

I turned to face her. “My mother says the spare room won’t be ready until tomorrow. It’s probably just one of her little games, but she asked if you’d mind staying one more night with me.”

Blair looked surprised, maybe even happy. “Of course I don’t mind. But is it okay with you?”

“It’s fine.” In my head was my mother’s voice telling me to be a gentleman, contrasting sharply with the fantasy of banging Blair on my dining table. “I’ll make sure to give you the couch this time.”

Without warning, she put a hand on my chest, rose up on her toes and kissed my cheek. “Thank you so much for everything, Griffin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

God, she was beautiful. And sweet. Smart. Sexy. And endearingly in need of protection without acting needy. The combination was driving me crazy. “Let’s sit down. I really need a beer.”

We grabbed a table for two on the pub’s outdoor patio. “Is this where you were sitting when I drove by last night?” she asked, setting her purse by her feet.

“Not this exact table, but yes.”

She cringed. “So you saw the whole thing?”

I grinned. “We all did.”

“God.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “So embarrassing. I mean, I’ve never been a very good driver, but last night was particularly humiliating.”

“You’re not a good driver?”

“No. I mean, I don’t habitually speed or anything. Things just tend to hit me.”

“Things tend to hit you? What kind of things?”

“Oh, you know, stop signs, bike racks, the occasional parking garage wall.”

I laughed. “Blair, those things don’t move.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, maybe it’s me hitting them. But no one ever gets hurt. Except possibly that one bus driver who claimed to have a stiff neck, but I swear I was legally parked when I backed into her bus.”

I laughed again. “I didn’t think there was a worse driver than Mrs. Applebee, but you might have her beat. How do you even have a license at this point?”

She gave me a coy smile. “I used to have a very good attorney.”

The server came by and took our drink orders, leaving us with a couple menus to look over. I ignored mine—I had the thing just about memorized—but Blair opened hers up.

“So what’s good here?”

I answered her questions about the menu without even looking at it, and she teased me for knowing it so well. “I don’t really cook,” I said with a shrug. “And this place is close, quick, and reliable. Plus, they sponsor our baseball team, so I like giving them the business.”

“You’re on a baseball team?”

“Not just any baseball team.” I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I will have you know you’re sitting across from the first baseman of the one and only Bellamy Creek Bulldogs, the two-time champions of the Allegan County Senior Men’s Baseball League.”

“Well, my goodness.” Blair fanned her face like a swooning Southern belle. “I do declare, Mr. Dempsey, that is impressive.”

I smiled, realizing it had been a long time since I’d taken a woman to dinner—and even longer since I’d enjoyed someone’s company so much. The waitress returned with our drinks—a beer for me, vodka and soda with a lime for Blair—and took our orders.

“So are you a baseball fan?” I asked when we were alone again, imagining her in the stands cheering us on.

“Hmm. I think so.” Blair pretended to think about it, tapping that puffy bottom lip with one finger. “Baseball is the one played on a diamond, right?”