"It sounds completely backwards."
"I know. But, hell, we got married as a drunken mistake. I'm asking if you want to try dating. Intentionally. With feelings."
"You want to date your wife."
"Yes."
"Most people do it the other way around."
"We're not most people."
"That's becoming abundantly clear."
He's smiling now, one that makes bubbles of giddiness rise to the surface of my skin. "Is that a yes?"
"I need clarification. If I become your girlfriend, what does that entail?"
"Dating. Real dating. Dinner that's not for board members. Conversations that don’t have to be booked on a calendar. Time together that's just because we want to be together."
"So basically what we've been doing for the past several weeks."
"But with the explicit understanding that it's real and we both want it."
I pretend to consider. "And what do I get out of this arrangement?"
"Me. Trying. Actually trying to let someone in for the first time in three years."
"That's a pretty compelling offer."
"I thought so."
"But there's a problem."
His expression shifts. "What problem?"
"I'm already sleeping in your penthouse. I already have access to your helicopter and private jet. What's the incentive to upgrade to girlfriend status?"
"The incentive—" He leans down, his full mouth hovering just above mine. "—is that as my girlfriend, you get to do this whenever you want."
He kisses me, sensual and slow and so goddamned hot that I nearly fold in half at the knees. When he pulls back, I'm practically panting—my body doing its best impression of a golden retriever begging for a treat.
"Okay," I squeak out. "That's a good incentive."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a 'I'm considering it.'"
"Harper."
"Yes?"
"Stop being difficult and say yes."
"You're very bossy for someone who's trying to woo me."
"I'm not trying to woo you. I'm trying to get you to admit what we both already know.”
“Which is?”
