Page 98 of I Choose You

I smirked at her. “I was working. Kind of.”

“Oh yeah,” she drawled. “The emails with attachments that didn’t stick.”

“Funny.” I handed her the plate I’d prepared for her and took mine. I wasn’t sure where the hell the tray or the domed plate covers came from. I never used them. I seldom had women in my bed to be able to get them breakfast in it the morning after.

She blinked in surprise as she looked at my eggs and toast. “Why make them separate?”

“I noticed you ordered only egg whites. I wanted to make sure you could have what you need. Or want.” It was a small thing, but now that she gazed at me with a look of surprise, I felt kind of stupid.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet,” she admitted before she ate.

As tempting as the idea was to shower with her, I refrained. If I thought I could impress her by making only egg whites for breakfast in bed, I really impressed her when I admitted I’d tossed her clothes in the washer and dryer before I made breakfast. I was nervous I’d screw them up, but she only gaped at me, my sheet around her like a toga.

“You’re something else.”

“Please don’t tell me they have to be dry-cleaned only.”

“No. No. They’re wrinkle-resistant old things.” She shrugged. “I doubt Todd will notice, but Sandra will notice I’m wearing the same thing. But at least they’ll be clean.” She pecked a quick kiss on my cheek and I felt tall.

Good going there. I headed to the guest room to shower, giving her space, but I wished we could have conserved water together. We didn’t have time to mess around. I had a meeting I had to get to, and she’d mentioned a call that would start her day. Still, just being with her would have been nice. It would have chased away the feeling that she was distancing herself.

Or maybe she knows we’d be tempted and can’t risk the delay.

I was all for a quickie, but I’d prefer to have the freedom to savor her instead.

Once she was dressed and ready to go, we grabbed our things and got into my SUV. It seemed homey, like we were a domestic couple who had a routine. We collaborated seamlessly, and I loved that she didn’t seem awkward on the drive into the city.

At her office, I waited in the no-parking zone to drop her off.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, hand on the door.

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” I teased.

She smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I’m starting to feel like your boyfriend more than a fake date,” I said.

That pretty blush faded and her expression fell. When she blinked fast, I frowned. I hated that I put that panicked look on her face.

Fuck. Did I say the wrong thing?

She looked at her hand on the door, hesitant.

Fuck! She wasn’t on the same page. And I cringed, realizing she didn’t see the same thing I did. That what we had wasn’t so fake anymore.

“So. Um.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, infusing as much nonchalance into my voice as I could. “Remember we’re going to look at the wedding venue Thursday night at six.”

She peered at me, biting her lip.

“Just to check it out. My friends own the manor, and I think it’ll be fine. Dad needs to take a look at it to make sure it’ll work. But it will. It’ll be a great place for the wedding.”

Shut. Up.

I never rambled. But realizing she didn’t feel an inkling of what I did hurt. It wouldn’t stop me from caring about her, from looking at her as more than just a fake date or a business associate. But knowing she was allergic to the idea of being my girlfriend felt a lot like rejection.

And fuck, did that sting.

“Actually, Thursday?” she said, shaking her head. “Something came up. I’ll need to skip that one.”