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“We should coordinate with your mom,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “That way, she can alert whoever she wants to see us.”
From his tone and expression, I could tell he was serious, and I ducked my head to hide my grin. He really thought the senator didn’t have people watching me? That was kind of precious, and I wondered what it must feel like to be so blissfully unaware.
I bit the inside of my cheek and said nothing, deciding not to burst his little bubble of naivety. He’d find out soon enough. Hell, there were probably photos of us entering the diner already circulating on social media.
Gage pulled a slim wallet from the inside pocket of his black leather jacket, extracted a fiver, and tucked it under the edge of his bowl. Though I hadn’t ordered anything besides water, I followed suit, adding another five to the total.
Just because I didn’t want to be there didn’t mean the diner employees should suffer.
Gage’s eyes flickered from the bill to my face, but he didn’t comment as he pushed back from the table and stood. “Did you drive?”
Standing as well, I nodded.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
If I hadn’t known it was all an act, I might have considered his offer sweet, maybe even chivalrous. He really didn’t have to exert so much effort for one or two extra photos, though.
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse him when I remembered he didn’t know about the cameras. He genuinely believed we hadn’t been followed. In fact, he had been concerned the senator wasn’t getting her money’s worth.
So, why continue the charade?
“Fine,” I agreed, giving in to my curiosity. “I’m in the parking garage across from your office.”
“Let’s go.” Rounding the table, he gripped the back of my elbow and steered me toward the exit.
I immediately jerked my arm out of his grasp and slowed my pace to follow half a step behind him. He didn’t reach for me again, and I hated that a small part of me actually felt disappointed. Exiting the diner behind him, I ducked my head and tensed, my breath freezing in my lungs when a rush of cold wind hit me in the face.
After a long, brutal summer and a blink-and-miss-it autumn, the first week of December had ushered in unseasonably low temperatures. There had even been talk of snow in the forecast. A rare sight in the metroplex, especially this early in the season.
When I had dressed that morning, I hadn’t anticipated walking around the city. My thin sweater jacket did little to block out the frigid wind, and my nose already stung from the cold. Flipping my hood up, I shoved my hands into my pockets and quickened my steps.
With my head down and my shoulders rounded, my only thoughts of reaching the warmth of my car, it didn’t register to my brain that we had reached the crosswalk. A horn blared, and I jerked my head up just as a muscular arm wrapped around my torso to yank me away from the curb.
My back connected with Gage’s broad chest, and adrenaline that had nothing to do with being almost flattened coursed through me. My traitorous body reacted to his proximity with a deep shiver, and I damn near moaned at the heat radiating off his skin. Thankfully, my brain kicked back online before I could do something stupid or embarrassing, and I shoved his hand away as I sidestepped to put distance between us.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. Even if I was pretending to be a dick, it seemed only right to acknowledge that he’d most likely saved my life.
“What were you thinking about?” He placed a hand on the small of my back and gave a gentle push when the signal light turned green.
“Just cold,” I answered honestly, too confused to form a snarky response.
I should have pushed him away again. Or quickened my pace to put some separation between us. Acutely aware of his hand on my back, I did neither of those things.
It would be a lie to say I didn’t understand my own motivations. Gage was gorgeous, kind, and he treated me like a person rather than a prop or a ploy. He also had this kind of stillness about him that I found incredibly attractive. Not laidback. Not chill. Just…very still, like the calm before a storm. Or an unflappably patient and confident hunter.
There was something in his eyes, something I couldn’t put a name to, but that kept me right up against the edge. Right on the line, but never crossing it. An awareness that stopped me short of truly angering him.
I didn’t think he would physically hurt me, but I did worry about what it would do to my emotional well-being to see his eyes darken with disappointment.
A frown pulled at my lips when his hand abruptly vanished once we made it across the street, but I forced myself to keep walking and not look at him. This needed to stop. I wasn’t supposed to like him. I hoped he wouldn’t take it personally—I barely knew him—but making him hate me was the only way to rebel against this farce.
I had no power. I couldn’t fire him or send him away. The only thing I could do was make him so miserable he would want to quit.
A warm, comforting weight settled around my shoulders, and the woodsy scent of his cologne filled my head. His jacket. Despite being dressed in nothing more substantial than a thin, cotton T-shirt, he had given me his jacket because I was cold.
“I don’t need it.” But I wanted it. “Here.”
I started to shrug it off, but instead, came to a stuttering stop on the sidewalk when he stepped in front of me to block the way. Gripping both sides of the jacket, he pulled it tight around me, then lightly cuffed the side of my head.
