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I know what she’s doing, and flirting with my ex’s dad is a no-go-zone. “May I also call you Lukas?”
“Of course,” he replies, moving his attention to Imogen. “Any friend of the lovely Ariana is a friend of mine.”
If only he knew what we’ve been talking about.
“Charming,” Imogen smiles up at him as well, and I want to give her a kick too, just to be sure she knows not to mess with Mr. Bentley.
I slap myself internally.
I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but now all I can think about is Charlize calling him a DILF.
His jaw is strong and masculine, and I have no idea why my pussy clenches when I look at his dark beard with flecks of white, and how he’s styled his hair to perfection.
I have absolutely no control of my body’s sudden reaction to him, and that is concerning.
“How are you girls enjoying the resort?” he asks, his eyes finally coming back to me.
“It’s beautiful,” I reply, finally finding my voice. “Thanks again for the recommendation.”
Kill me now.
“We’re actually here for Ariana’s birthday,” my traitorous friend Charlize declares, as Lukas spares her a glance.
“Is that so?”
“Yep, we’re making it a fun girls’ trip this year.” She leans closer to him and whispers behind her hand. “No boys allowed.”
His eyebrows shoot up as his eyes turn to look at me, and I feign a smile while kicking Charlize under the table again.
“That’s a shame, I was going to ask you all if you’d like to have dinner with me…”
Imogen and Charlize’s eyes go wide as I internally shake my head while still smiling sweetly at him.
“Mr. B…”
He holds up a finger to stop me, and my eyes trail up the long line of tattoos snaking up his arm and disappearing under his rolled-up shirt sleeves. It’s very sexy.
“Sorry, Lukas, I… ugh…”
“She’d love to,” my other traitorous friend, Imogen, pipes up. “I mean, I’m sure we can make an exception to the no boys allowed rule, right?”
They all stare at me as I squirm in my seat.
“Agreed,” Charlize pipes up. “And Lukas doesn’t count, he’s not a boy, he’s a man.” She gives me a wink, which Mr. B doesn’t see because he’s still staring at me.
Seriously, Charlize?
I shoot my friend daggers, and while Mr. B doesn’t smile, his lips twitch ever so slightly. He’s not a man to be reckoned with, that much I know. I’ve always been a little bit intimidated being in his presence, but not until now did I realize just how intimidating he really is.
“Your friend does have a point,” he says when words fail to come out of my mouth. “Out of the fifteen restaurants at this resort, I’m sure I can find something to wet our palettes.”
My eyes go wide.
Why does it sound so fucking dirty?
More to the point, why does he want to have dinner?
Or am I just being paranoid?
