Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance, Natasha Boyd [e reader books .TXT] 📗

I cracked up. “Yeah. That sounds about right. All power to the campers, it’s just never been my thing.”

“No boats, no camping,” he mused. “So, is that all you wanted to talk about?”

I opened my mouth then closed it again.

His eyes were steady on mine. Intense. It was now or never.

“It’s just. This … this chatting with you is nice. Then sometimes, you just snap like I’ve done something wrong, and you’re cold again. I mean, I’m not saying I’m the best person in the world, but I think I’m a nice enough person. Dauphine seems to think so. As well as practically every other person I’ve ever met. I have to be honest, I’ve never come across someone who simply tolerates me one minute and seems repelled by me the very next.”

He stilled, his eyes narrowing. His arms folded across his chest.

Shit, I’d really just put it out there, hadn’t I? My heart thudded heavily all the way up my throat. “I mean … I, it’s fine if you don’t like me. But,” I swallowed. My mouth had gone dry as paper. Earth, or ocean, swallow me up. Please.

“You’re nice one minute and snappy the next.”

He sat forward, legs astride the lounger. “Snappy?” His work was cast aside.

“Snappy,” I reiterated. “The way you look at me feels like …” I trailed off, then cleared my throat. “Never mind. Anyway, it feels as though you have been avoiding me. Have you?” I asked before my brain caught up with my mouth. Might as well ask him straight out.

His expression remained unchanged, though there was a long pause before he answered slowly. “Why would I do that?”

“It seems like you have been.” I lifted a shoulder as if it had been just a casual observation.

“I think I have too much work going on and too many important things on my mind than worrying about where you are at all times. I … like you just fine. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel otherwise,” he said flatly. “That was not my intention. As long as my daughter is safe, that’s all I should care about.”

“Of course.” I bit down hard. “Okay. As long as there is not something I can do differently.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said cryptically after a long pause. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few more reports to read.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

My American phone beeped with an incoming text as I pulled on a fresh t-shirt from my laundry pile. After Dauphine and I swam while Xavier was on a conference call, I’d had a quick shower to get the salt off. This morning we’d stopped off at a small bay, and this afternoon we’d be docking back in St. Tropez. I was looking forward to getting off the boat again and having a night off.

I hurriedly swished some mouthwash to freshen up and wound my wet hair into a top knot, then grabbed my phone. There were two text messages from Meredith.

Mer: Update! I think I know what he said in French. Lol. Call me later.

Mer: Oh crap. Tabitha just said she got an email from him and asked if I’d heard from you. Call me!

My heart thudded, and I frowned and perched on the edge of my bed while I dialed Meredith’s number. It went to voicemail. “Shit,” I murmured and gritted my teeth as I dialed Tabs.

“Hey, Josie,” she answered on the first ring.

“Tabs! How are you? Isn’t it the wedding this weekend? You must be so busy.”

She gave a short laugh. “My sister has the world’s most intense wedding planner. Everything is ready, but I’m so busy because the damn planner and my sister have micro-managed everyone’s time down to the minute. We’re on a packed schedule. I have hair and make up for the rehearsal dinner in, I kid you not, seventeen minutes. Not fifteen. Not twenty. Seventeen.”

“Yikes. That does sound intense. But you’re having fun though, right?”

“I am.”

“And what about the hometown guy you were worried about seeing? He there?”

“He’s here,” she said. “But I don’t want to talk about him. How’s it going there?”

“Fine. I mean, I think. Dauphine is amazing. And we’ve totally bonded.”

“But?”

“How do you know there’s a but?”

She let out a short breath. “Listen, you’d tell me the truth if anything had gone on between you and Mr. Pascale, right?”

My belly flipped over. “Um,” I managed through a throat now filled with rocks. “What do you mean?”

“Josie, don’t make me say it.”

“But that’s the thing. I mean, I think you’re asking if anything sexual has happened, to which I can categorically tell you no. No way.”

She let out an exhale. “Thank God.”

Her reaction of relief should have made me feel better, but somehow, I felt worse. And what had happened to even have her ask that question. She seemed to be waiting for more from me, so I decided to share my thoughts. “But I think he has a problem with me for some reason. He’s nice and chatty one minute, and then snapping at me the next. Basically, I love Dauphine, but I’m not having the best time with him, if that makes sense. But I mean, he’s not my job. She is.”

“Right.”

I licked my lips. “Why did you ask that?”

“I haven’t checked my email in a few days, and I dunno, maybe I missed it when I did check, but he sent me an email.”

My forehead creased up, and I tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling brewing inside me. “And,” I pressed when she paused.

“And he asked me if I could find a replacement for you.”

My stomach plummeted, and ice swept over my skin. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it was a while ago, and I overlooked it. I just thought I had everything with the business squared away and put an out of office note on my email, and we’ve been nonstop here, and I feel awful that I didn’t see it and