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I settle back in my seat. “Ask you what?”
“To marry you, of course,” she laughs, and then leans forward. “When you ask a woman to marry you, you’re supposed to do it properly by getting down on one knee.” She narrows her eyes. “Are you going to deny me something every girl dreams of?”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead.” She crosses her arms.
“But I don’t have a ring,” I protest.
“Pretend.” The dominant way she says it makes me pull at the collar of my shirt.
I slide out of the booth and awkwardly get down on one knee in front of her, the familiar position causing licks of heat to coarse over my skin. Kneeling in front of Evangeline, that sweet look on her face, and the way she blinks at me expectantly, I wonder how any man could deny her anything.
Slowly, the noise in the diner starts to dissipate, and when I look around, everyone is staring at us.
I clear my throat. “Evangeline Bowen, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” I ask and then lower my voice so only she can hear. “For five million fucking dollars,” I grit out.
There’s clatter all around us but I don’t pay any attention to any of it. I just stare at her, waiting—and she takes her sweet fucking time.
“Yes, Darren Walker, I will marry you,” she says in an overly sweet voice.
The diner erupts into applause, and I look around sheepishly. They start to chant kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.
I’m more than happy to oblige. I’ve been thinking about kissing her this whole time as I watched her bite, lick, and part those pretty pink lips during our negotiation. I pull her from the booth and press her body flush to mine. She swallows hard, and a small sigh escapes her lips. With my arm wrapped around her waist, I bring my other hand to rest against her cheek, brushing my thumb along her jaw. She looks up at me, blinking slowly. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask quietly.
“Almost,” she smiles, and then presses her lips to mine. The chatter in the diner fades to background noise. When I slip past her lips with an eager tongue, I can already tell it’s not nearly enough, especially when she tastes so sweet and her hand rests on my shoulder. Such a chaste move, but it makes me greedy for something that cannot happen in the middle of the diner. For a moment after she pulls away, I can see her searching my eyes, but I don’t know if she finds what she’s looking for.
The noise of the diner snaps back into place the moment her forehead leaves mine and she turns to face the crowd of curious patrons, her game face on once again.
“This man right here just won a lot of money, and he’s too shy to say it, but everyone’s meal is on him.”
Another round of applause ensues and I narrow my eyes at Evangeline, very aware that my mouth is hanging open. “I don’t have the fucking money yet,” I grit out and watch as she gives me a satisfied smile.
“I’m sure you can figure something out. You’re resourceful.” She claps my shoulder with a wink.
As I look at her – young, pretty, and dangerous – I let out a long sigh. “Did you know the downfall of every powerful man is underestimating a beautiful woman?” I ask.
She leans down and signs the contract with a ceremonial flick of her wrist and sets the pen on top of it.
“You’re not a powerful man, Darren Walker,” she says, taking a bite of her pancakes. “Not yet.”
“Grab your best dress, Evangeline,” I order and hold out my hand for her, “Elvis is waiting.”
8
Dainty Waist for a Man
Evangeline
“You aren’t seriously doing this?” Cleo asks as she follows me into my bedroom where I grab my suitcase from the closet and throw it on the bed.
“I have no choice.” I wasn’t going to let Darren fucking Walker know that, though.
“You marry this guy, get your money, and then what?”
“Take my choice back,” I say, turning towards her.
Cleo gives me an understanding smile. She places a hand on my thigh. “Money means different things to different people. You,” she uses her finger to dig lightly into my thigh, “never struck me as someone who put that much importance on it.”
