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Xavier had known he’d been too focussed on his training for California. They hadn’t been on a proper date for months. Early mornings in the surf, days spent in the gym, going to bed straight after his specially prepared protein-packed, vegan dinner. The trip had been a belated kind of apology. He’d known she’d been unhappy, but he’d had no idea how much.
Surprised to feel a hand cover his, he looked up into Hope’s eyes. He’d never bared his soul like that to a woman. Once again, Hope had thrown him off kilter. He’d expected her judgement, not her understanding.
“Why did you want to get married in the first place?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s what people do when they get to our age, isn’t it?”
“You make it sound as if it’s something people are forced to do, like tax returns and watching all three original Star Wars movies.” She tilted her head. “Xavier, when was the last time you were single?”
“Before Beth? We dated for about three years. Before that, I was with Jasmine. That was two years.”
“How long in between?”
“I don’t know, a week, maybe two?”
“Uh-uh. Before Jasmine, how long were you single?”
“Well, there was Kath… um, a little while. A few days? Why?”
“Thought so. You’re a serial monogamist, my friend.”
That phrase again. Had she been speaking to his friends? “What? That’s such bullshit. Why would you say that?”
She gave him an assessing look as heat flooded his cheeks.
“It’s obvious. You’re a strapping, well-read, alpha male. Any woman knows the likes of you won’t last in the wild for long. You’d be snapped up in a heartbeat. I bet you haven’t been single for more than a month since puberty, right?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She’d read him like a book. A thin one with big letters and little words. “Oh, really. Well, if I’m so transparent, what about you?” he asked. “What’s your story? I spilled my guts, and I still don’t know anything about you. Like, um, what about your real name?”
She pursed her lips, clearly debating whether or not to let him change the subject. “Let’s save that story for another time. My life isn’t that interesting.”
Xavier highly doubted that and shifted in his chair. He had another question, one he was starting to suspect he didn’t want the answer to.
Before he had a chance to ask, Hope’s grin evaporated. Two cops came through the front door, one tall African American, one short, dumpy, and white. They greeted the waitress behind the counter and a few fellow diners with warm familiarity. The waitress poured them coffee without having been asked. Regulars. Hope watched them closely, her posture deflated, and she appeared to be sinking into the seat.
It was Xavier’s turn to snap his fingers to grab his companion’s attention. “Okay, let’s try something else. What do you do for a living that you were able to suddenly drop everything and travel the country with an Aussie madman on a whim?”
Hope stared at him as if he’d spoken in Japanese. “Huh? What did you say?”
Gone was the carefree woman he’d known since New York. She had been replaced by someone else. Someone timid and unsure. She glanced over her shoulder then back to him before answering. Eventually, her shoulders squared, and her usual demeanour returned.
She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like another personal enquiry. No commitments, no complications, right?”
“Conversation isn’t commitment. If I ask that guy over there for the salt, we’re not legally wed. It’s, you know, a social nicety. It’s how regular human interaction normally works.”
She turned towards the window. “Normal? I wouldn’t know. Anyway, I thought we weren’t doing that?”
“Said who? Where were you for the last ten minutes? We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, and we obviously have a connection. Why not know a bit about each other’s background? I’ve only got a couple of weeks here, so knowing a bit more about each other might make our time together a bit more, I don’t know, pleasant?”
“Oh, Surfer-boy, you’re not getting soft on me. Are you?”
He couldn’t resist a wink. “I think we both know that’s not my style.”
Hope’s unexpected grin hit him straight in the groin. “Oh, I remember, all right. What is it with you men? Always wanting to snuggle and talk about theirfeelings. Why can’t we just fuck?”
For such a common word, hearing it from Hope’s lips made it sound downright naughty. His cock bobbed its agreement, andthe irony smacked him upside the head. How many men would love to hear those exact words? From this stunning woman, it was almost irresistible. Almost. He folded his arms and raised one eyebrow.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, took one more glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “What do you want to know?”
