Page 62 of The Contract Marriage

If I could, I’d ask her to let him go with a generous severance bonus. Hell, I’d pay the severance myself. But deep inside, I know that won’t work. She’s allowed me into her life, but that doesn’t mean she’ll allow me to dictate her business decisions.

I climb out and open the door for her before Simon can get it. He gives me a cool smile.

“Hello, Liam.”

“Simon.”

“Thanks for picking me up.” She kisses me, and that’s enough to calm me.

Simon’s fierce glare lands on my head.

Watch and weep. I put my hand at the small of her back and pull her closer for a deeper kiss.

She curls her fingers around my shoulders. “Liam.” She flushes.

“Wanna get going?”

She nods, then waves at Simon. “Have a great weekend.” He gives her a smile that almost looks genuine.

No clinging to her over the weekend, Simon. I close the door behind her.

“You so don’t deserve her,” he grinds out softly.

“When she’s as happy to see you as she is to see me, you can talk.”

Simon turns a deep red. Score one for me! I smirk, then get behind the wheel and start toward the restaurant.

“Thank you,” she says. “I’m so excited. I’ve never been able to get a table there.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t have the patience to wait? The maître d’ always said it’d be two months. I want my dinner now, not two months down the road.” She rolls her eyes.

I chuckle softly. “I hear you, but that place has gotten even more popular. The owner knows what he’s doing, and you’re in for a treat.”

She grins, all the shadows in her eyes gone. She looks a decade younger—like that moment when I first laid eyes on her. It was the first day in calculus, and she sat alone in the front of the room, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail that revealed the soft line of her nape. Unlike most students who were chatting and checking their phones while waiting for class to start, she was writing something in a notebook. From her slightly pinched expression, it seemed serious, but she set it aside the moment the professor walked in. Our eyes met briefly, and my mind went blank as the sound of my heartbeat pounded in my head. She blinked, then gave me a smile, which disappeared as soon as I smiled back. Her cheeks flushed slightly before she turned to the lectern.

The route to the restaurant isn’t as congested as the one from Point Dume to her office. Half an hour later, I toss the fob to the valet and grab the flowers from the back. I forgot them earlier in my hurry to get out and intercept Simon—my car, my woman, and I’ll open the damn door for her myself.

Her eyes light up at the sight of the white and pink camellias. “These are absolutely beautiful, Liam.” She curls her index finger around the silver ribbons. “Did you put these together yourself?”

I nod.

“Love them.” She blushes, the shade matching the pink of the camellias, but she’s prettier. She kisses me. “Thank you. I should’ve thought of bringing something for you, too.”

“You brought yourself. That’s more than enough.” I place a kiss on her forehead and gaze at her shy smile with giddiness bubbling in my chest.

We head inside the restaurant and into another world full of carefully curated marine life set against soothing deep blue.

“Wow.” She looks around at the tall aquariums serving as partitions. I watch the light in her eyes, glad I picked this place.

The maître d’—probably the same guy who told her to wait two months—gives us his most professional smile. “Your name, sir?”

“Liam Kingswood.”

He checks his list. The corner of his eyebrow lifts. “This way, sir.”

A sharply suited man comes out to take us to the dining area. A giant aquarium soars in the center, and more aquariums are used to provide privacy.