Page 3 of Booked on You
“And you’ve arrived.” He laughs.
I huff, placing my hand on my hip, losing my patience.
“You just seem like the type who snaps her fingers and gets what she wants delivered on a silver platter,” he says. “Am I wrong?”
“Actually, you can cancel my reservation,” I tell him, grabbing my bag and moving toward the steps.
“Scarlett. You’re no fun. You’re more like a Lamelett,” he says, and I turn and glare at him. He’s amused by my agitation. “Look. There are things I have to warn you about. My big fat cock is one of them.”
I scoff.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. My rooster Harry likes to peck around the back porch in the mornings and afternoons. If you see him, just don’t look him in the eye, okay?”
My brain short-circuits. “Excuse me?”
“My big, fat red rooster,” he explains. “He crows every morning at six on the dot. His cock-a-doodle-doo is a little fucked up, but it’s endearing. It’s more like a ca-ca-kaaa.”
Ezra sticks his neck out when he does it.
I almost crack a smile.Almost.
“Harry tries hard, though,” he says. “Give him compliments if you’re awake.”
“Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction,” I mutter.
How do I escape this conversation?
He leans one broad shoulder against the doorframe and watches me. “Oh, right. You’re the writer.”
“I was. Not sure if I still am,” I say honestly. “So, if you could give me the key, I’ll be out of your way. I’m under a major deadline and don’t have the time or patience for this. I need rest because I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Not so fast,” he says, reaching casually into his pocket and pulling out a key attached to a ring. He dangles it just out of reach. “House rules first.”
“I read the rules. Twice.”
“Well, they’ve changed.”
I narrow my eyes. “Since yesterday?”
“Yup. You know the regular ones. No smoking. No pets. No parties. But I just added a new one. No guests.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You can’t change the rules. What if I want to go out and meet someone?”
“No hookups or booty calls,” he tells me. “No one else is allowed on my property other than you.”
This man is testing my patience, something no one does, ever. And I’ve known him for less than five minutes.
“Fine.” I exhale sharply. “I didn’t come here for romance, anyway. Once I finish my project, I’ll be out of your hair.”
He steps toward me, grabs my suitcase, and wheels it across the porch inside. “This way. Cutting through the house is quicker. The side gate is still locked. Unless you want to jump the fence, and if that’s the case, I’m watching.”
“Lead the way.” I groan as the wheels loudly roll across his hardwood floor.
Ezra doesn’t look back. He strolls through the front hallway like he owns the place. Which, fine, he technically does, but there’s something about the way he moves that irritates me. Cocky. And like he’s enjoying this a little too much.
“Make it quick,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m two seconds away from booking a hotel in town.”
“No rooms available. I already had several people call for the cottage if you, for some reason, backed out,” he says.
