“Nearly,” he says with a gleam. “Frenetic, eh?” His gaze slices my way. “We can try tantric, if you want. In fact, we can try whatever you want.”
“Are you trying to make my heart stop?” It seems the universe does not like this invocation, throwing up pebbles in my way, making me stumble.
“Are you trying to make mine stop?” he says, catching me before I face-plant. “I should’ve thought about those.” He glowers down at my heels as though they just cursed his lineage.
“And spoil the surprise?” Of a walk around the park, which is way better than work.
“Exactly.” Instead of straightening, Whit sweeps me up off my feet, bridal style.
“Hey, no! Whit, put me down!” I demand as my purse flops against my hip.
“I will, just not yet. Morning.” He greets another passerby with a wide grin. A dog walker, I notice as they pass by.
“Good morning,” I add in a much smaller voice, then whack Whit again with a demand he put me down before I flash the world myknickers.He does put me down, but not for a while when we walk hand in hand toward a…
“A lake?”
“Yeah.” His expression turns almost bashful. “It seems stupid now that we’re here, but I thought you said you wanted to do touristy stuff. I was out for a run, and I saw the boats, and I sort of convinced myself you’d like to go out on one.”
Oh, my heart. An unsure Leif Whittington is adorable. “I would—I would love to!” Now. Five minutes ago, I would’ve been ambivalent.
“Then the day started so well, sunshine and blue skies, and I thought, fuck it, let’s do it. But now that we’re here,” he says, bringing a hand to his mouth to hide his grin, “I feel like a bit of a tit.”
“Why? It’s a great idea—I love it!”
“Yeah? You wouldn’t prefer afternoon tea at The Ritz or an evening of cocktails at the top of The Shard?”
“No, I want to row a boat,” I say, taking his hand. Ilovethat he thought of me, and I love how sweet and awkward he’s being right now.
“Yeah?” His answer seems filled with doubt.
“I love,loveit!” I insist, practically jumping up and down on the spot. “Come on—let’s get on a boat! I mean, if it’s even open.” I turn to where blue paddle boats are lined up by two men in matching polo shirts. There aren’t many people looking to hire this morning, the passerby mostly dogwalkers and commuters taking shortcuts.
“It’s not officially open…”
“Then how can we—”
He shrugs, a little more confident now. “It’s just open for us.”
“Have you been using your influence, Mr. Sexy CEO?”
“Not unduly, Miss Valente. Not the way I do with you.” He slides his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him as we stroll toward the men in polo shirts. “Not everyone is interested in my cock the way you are.”
“Hush! You’ll offend the swans.”
The shorter of the two boat attendants has either met Whit or senses he’s this morning’s special customer. It’s not a huge leap, I guess, given the choice between Whit in his sharp suit and the man in jeans being pulled along by a Labrador.
“Mr. Whittington?” the man hedges.
“Just Whit,” he corrects, holding out his hand.
The man looks surprised but smothers it well. The pair shake before he directs us behind him. “We have your rowboat ready over there.”
“You mean we’re not going on one of the blue paddleboats?”
“We can, but that means you’ll have to pedal.” Whit glances doubtfully at my shoes.
“Or I could just watch you row, I guess.” My gaze slides over him suggestively. “You’re gonna need to take off the jacket, though.”
