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He pointed to a barstool. I hopped up on it.
“This pizza is getting cold so you better answer quick.”
“You haven’t even asked me a question.”
“I have an event to attend Thursday evening. The kind you’ll have to wear a pretty dress to.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Hell, no. I’m telling you if you want this pizza or your son, you’ll have to agree to go with me.”
“What kind of event?” I heard myself ask instead of a flat-out no.
Judging by the smug look on his face, he knew he had me.
“One where you have to be on your best behavior.”
“I think you’re asking the wrong girl.”
He kissed Blake’s head. “Nope. I’m asking the exact right girl. Now say yes so you can eat. You look like a wolf and I’m a piece of meat.”
“Was that supposed to convince me to go?”
“I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
“Is it some boring, stuffy lawyer thing?”
“All these questions.” He felt the bottom of the box. “I hope you like cold pizza.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are we going to be alone?”
“Absolutely not. Do I look like I have a death wish?”
I frowned. “We’re alone now and you’re still breathing.”
“For the moment. Hurry up and say yes so I don’t have to resort to using your son against you.” He nuzzled his nose, not even worried about the dried drool around Blake’s mouth.
“Fine.”
“Fine you’ll go? Or fine I can use Blake?”
“I’ll go.”
He slid the box across the island. “Enjoy.”
I dove right in, attacking a slice of pizza like I’d never eaten.
Patrick sauntered around the island. “You’ve got some sauce.” He swiped the corner of my mouth and sucked the sauce off his finger.
“I’m starving.”
“I couldn’t tell.” His lips twitched.
“Want some?” I held up my half eaten slice.
He took a bite. “That’s good.”
“So good.” I leaned against the backrest of the barstool, not caring when an olive fell off and landed on my chest. I plucked it from my shirt and popped it in my mouth.
