Noah couldn’t stop eating the butter chicken. Problem was, Zara was standing there, all curvy and delicious and being so nice, and she was waiting for an answer.
“This is great food,” he said.
She c****d her hip and folded her arms. So he would not be telling her he’d found a pair of tickets to her show on opening night. At least not tonight.
“Fine,” he finally said. “I can cancel at the yacht club. But when do you think you’ll have time to teach me how to surf?” He lifted his eyebrows. “You work a lot, you know.”
“Some of us have bills to pay,” she shot back. “And the best time to surf is as the sun comes up.” She started toward the hallway again, and Noah wanted to call her back. “So be ready at five-thirty, okay?” She tossed him a grin over her shoulder as she reached the arched doo
