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Wait. What? He owns a software company? It strikes me all over again how little I know about this man I’m going out with tonight, and if I wasn’t afraid that he might actually make good on his threat to have me arrested for trespassing, I might actually high-tail it back upstairs to the safety of my room.
I consider doing it anyway, thinking that maybe a jail cell is preferable to the dangerously sexy man sitting in my parents’ living room, but I’ve been spotted. Nick rises to stand as his eyes latch onto me where I stand on the second from last stair. His eyes sweep over my form appreciatively, and I feel my cheeks color under his open gaze in front of my parents.
He looks sinfully handsome in black slacks and a light grey button-up, his dark hair swept carelessly back from his face.
“Daisy, why didn’t you tell us you met the man who bought Mr. McEwen’s place?” Mom asks me, still smiling at Nick like he hangs the moon.
Even my dad seems smitten by him if the grin on his face is any indication, and I can’t help wondering what Nick said to them before I came down that has them both beaming at him like so.
I don’t answer Mom as I finish stepping down into the living room, thanking god that I can walk in my heels, even with how my legs are shaking. I’ve never been one for stilletos, and I’ve never been more thankful that I’d settled for kitten heels instead of the stilts of death other girls wore.
“I thought you said you’d be here at seven?” I say tightly through the smile I’ve plastered onto my face for the sake of my parents.
“Oh, I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by a bit earlier to meet your parents,” his eyes twinkle with his bit of wit.
“Punctuality is a value that can never be overrated,” my dad chimes in while Mom’s still swooning over the way Nick smiled as he said he wanted to meet them.
The bastard. He’s turning my own parents to his side.
“You look beautiful,” Nick murmurs to me as he comes to take my arm and lead me out of the door to the car that looks like it costs more than my parents’ house. It’s certainly not the rental he’d been driving yesterday, though that had been nice too. I wonder if he owns this vehicle, but then I firmly remind myself that I don’t care.
“Have her home by eight!” my dad calls behind us, chuckling at his own joke.
“Oh, Merv,” Even though I’m not looking back at them, I can just see Mom shoving Dad playfully. “She’s an adult, for god’s sake. Keep her all night if you want to, Nick!” Mom calls behind us.
My face turns scarlet with mortification as I turn back to glare at her, Nick’s chuckle ringing in my ears. I swear. My mother is something else.
He opens the passenger-side door of his fancy little sports car, holding it open for me. He shuts it behind me when I get in and then walks around to the driver’s side, a wide grin still plastered on his face as he somehow folds his huge body into the driver’s seat.
“You ready?” he asks me while putting the car in gear.
“Does it matter?” I cross my arms in irritation.
He chuckles. “Well, I am,” he says, “especially since I get to keep you all night if I want.” He casts a teasing smirk my way.
“You most certainly do not,” I hiss at him, my face turning red again.
He laughs outright as he pulls out of the driveway. “What? Your mother said I could.”
“She’s ridiculous,” I fume, wanting to strangle her.
“I like her,” he smiles at me, flashing his perfect set of white teeth over at me.
“Where are you taking me?” I change the subject.
“Ever been to Emilio’s?” he asks me.
I know the place he’s talking about. It’s a five-star restaurant about two hours away from here in the city. I know some husbands take their wives there for anniversaries if they really want to splurge, but it certainly isn’t the type of place a simple little country mouse like me has ever been to.
“No, but it’s like two hours away. We can’t go there,” I protest.
“Who said we were?” he turns his wolfish grin at me as he throws on his blinker even though there’s no one behind us and turns into the long, winding driveway that leads back to the mansion that used to be Mr. McEwen’s.
The mansion that is now his.
He pulls up to the front door and throws the car into park.
I look up at the stone exterior of the breathtaking home. It’s rustic and contemporary all at the same time. I suddenly realize that I’ve never been inside it before. Before building it, Mr. McEwen had lived in the modest home he had built further up on his land. We’d passed it on the driveway out to the mansion. After his wife had left him, he’d moved back into his previous home, and that’s where’d Jake and I had always visited him.
