Page 102 of One Bossy Dare


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“I’ll take it.”

His lips barely move, but Cole laughs with his eyes.

“Afraid you can’t handle the sake?” he asks after she moves away.

“I don’t drink a lot...”

He nods, studying me over the rim of his glass as he sips his water.

“I don’t think you were done.”

“What?” He sets his glass down.

“You explained the need for privacy—I get it—but it seems like you wanted to add something more.” I sip my water, studying his handsome face.

He shifts in his seat—and do I see a tiny crinkle of nervousness on his face?

“Our co-workers can’t find out about this yet, Eliza. Until I talk to HR, we’re technically breaching several major rules against fraternization.”

“Fraternization.” I laugh sourly.

Also, didn’t he say he’d deal with HR days ago? I can’t be too judgmental.

He’s not Derek. I’m not being played for a selfish man’s ego.

Still, when you’ve been burned before, you start looking for any whiff of smoke.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gruffly, fixing me with a stare.

“Hmm?”

“That laugh. It’s not your usual peppy giggle.”

No joke. I’m trying not to be a paranoid bitch when I know I shouldn’t be.

The server returns with our drinks before he can press me. “Are we ready to order?”

“Whatever you call the crab with avocado and spicy aioli,” he says immediately. “I want a couple of rolls of that, a spread of your market sashimi, a tempura roll, and throw in a California roll for my lovely date from San Diego.”

I stare at him, unblinking.

Wow. Until now, I never thought I’d like having a man order for me. But there’s something oddly charming about trusting Cole enough to take care of me.

Now, if only we could build the same trust outside of delicious food and sheet-ripping sex.

“Bring it on the Zushi boat, please. I’m a sucker for a good presentation,” Cole continues.

She taps the order into her tablet and disappears.

Under the table, Cole catches my foot gently between both of his. I gasp and look at him.

“We’re not off to a great start, are we? Minus the impeccable sushi order, I mean.”

“We’re fine,” I lie.

“Fine. Exactly what a man wants to hear on his first real date in a decade,” he says with a snort. “I don’t want any secrets between us, Eliza, so let me be clear. We have to keep a low profile around the office for just a little while longer. Not that the truth hasn’t slipped out to a couple people already. Troy knows about us, and I’m sure Katelyn does, too. He even said something to Destiny.”

My heart skips.

“Oh, like what? Why? And why would he tell your daughter of all people?”

Cole sighs. “He’s known me for too long, and I’ve never just been his boss. He saw us together in Hawaii and picked up on the obvious, I’m sure. Can’t say I’m thrilled with him talking to Destiny, but he’s an odd bird. The man never had a class in manners and as much as he pisses me off sometimes, he does his job flawlessly. Still, we don’t need a whole peanut gallery talking in hand signals about the last time we kissed or winked at each other. That kind of shit will definitely make it up the chain, and we can’t have that happening when it’s not on our terms.”

I sip my ginger drink slowly.

Everything about this is confusing. I’m also not great at hiding, even if it’s for a good reason.

Having dinner in the open as a couple was also his idea. I never asked for this.

I just mentioned people would find out sooner or later.

Deep down, every time he mentions Destiny, I can’t help remembering what she spilled in Kona.

Is he actually over his dead wife? Can he ever truly be 'over' her?

I get it. A small part of his heart might always belong to her considering they had a flipping child together.

But I can’t handle being his rebound, his stand-in, his ghost made flesh.

After Derek and his heartbreak on a stick, I can’t stand being anyone’s shadow girlfriend.

While I’m still brooding, a huge wooden boat shows up with two waitresses, piled high with colorful sushi so beautiful it’s hard to eat.

Lit sparklers shine at each end, crackling shades of orange and yellow.

They set the boat down in the center of the table with a few plates and our waitress snuffs the flames with a golden spoon before she disappears.

“Holy crap. Dinner and a show?” I whisper, hoping my awkward smile doesn’t tell him how unclassy I am.

He smiles across the table. “I thought you’d like it. The presentation is part of the experience.”

Trying to swallow my worries for now, I pick out several pieces of my spider roll with spicy aioli and some California roll and drop them onto my plate.

Cole loads his plate without seeming to care what he grabs.

A voice in the back of my mind won’t leave me alone while I’m trying to savor the delicious meal. It tells me I’m being silly, I’m letting my fears rule me, and I should just shut up and enjoy this fairy-tale beast of a man.

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