Friends to Lovers by Christi Barth Read Free Book Online

believe food has magical properties to strip away your inhibitions. So confront your British sex demon, and prove to yourself that you and Gib still have the same relationship as before the kiss so great it stopped time.”
    Daphne only had one rebuttal left in her arsenal. “I don’t want to.”
    “Think of the mistletoe you put in the centerpiece,” Ivy suggested. “You’re sure to surmount all difficulties this year. But you’ve got to start by getting over this first one.”
    All this considered, she’d rather deal with a bridezilla who hated her carefully handcrafted wedding bouquet. Or have an entire week’s shipment of roses go missing. Or even swim a mile in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan during today’s Polar Bear Plunge. Who was she kidding? Giving up on men entirely sounded easier than forgetting the eye-popping, panty-drenching goodness of a Gibson Moore lip-lock.

Chapter Three
    It is at the edge of a petal that love waits
    ~ William Carlos Williams
    A hard knock rattled the glass door to Gib’s office. “I need ten more minutes,” he said, without tearing his eyes from the computer screen. Everyone knew the rules. When his door was open, he’d talk to anyone. No problem too small, from a dispute between sous chefs about garlic scapes versus scallions to garnish the bisque, to moderating a discussion between the day and evening concierges about how to fairly split their substantial tips. But on the rare occasions Gib closed his door, it signaled he needed absolute silence and zero distractions.
    “Fat chance.” Ben barged in, shut the door behind him and then leaned against it with his arms crossed. Body language put him at relaxed and slouchy, but the cold glint in his blue eyes tipped the true scale toward pissed off. “You’re already ten minutes late. After I busted my ass to get here on time, I might add. We’re supposed to be working out, remember?”
    “Clearly not.” Bloody hell. He could’ve waved an employee out of his office without a problem. Ben, however, proved much more immovable. Flat-out stubborn, most days.
    “I watched you tuck away four of those cinnamon rolls at Daphne’s brunch. Plus, you stole the last strip of bacon right out from under my fork. I’m not the only one who needs to sweat off a few pounds. Aren’t all your precious suits hand-tailored? I wouldn’t want you to pop a button. Unless, of course, that’s your plan to score women even faster. Just walk around town with your pants already halfway open.”
    “I like the ease of accessibility, but as it’s hovering just south of zero outside, I see a gaping hole in your strategy. So I’ll join you in the gym. I just need a few more minutes.” Gib tapped his pen against the blotter on his desk. Nowadays, a blotter was more of a nod to style than a practical office accessory. But he liked the old-school look. It reminded him of his father’s desk, the one he’d played at as a child. Dark, carved wood that looked very much like his own desk here, thousands of miles and an ocean away from the original. Just the way he liked it. Because truly, Gib couldn’t get far enough away from his father.
    Ben plopped down in a chair. “Geez, you run a hotel. Guests check in, guests check out.”
    “Thank you for reducing my career to the easy life of a library book.” Gib pressed Print. Maybe putting pen to paper would help him fix the weak spots in his document. And provide a visual hint to propel Ben back out the door.
    Elbow on the desk, Ben propped his head on his fist. “Isn’t that the whole point of being the big-cheese manager? You know, that you delegate everything? I’m supposed to meet Ivy for dinner in exactly two hours. If I’m late, she’ll read me the riot act.”
    “Some things are too important to hand off.” If Ben wouldn’t leave, ignoring him was the next best plan. So Gib turned to the printer and drummed his fingers while waiting for the paper to spit out. No matter how annoying