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Either way, my panic returned in a rush.
Oh coconuts, he was here. The last time I’d seen the man, my last word had been, “Toodles.” Toodles, for flounder’s sake. As if that weren’t embarrassing enough, now I had to see his stupidly handsome face again.
Shaking my head to break the spell his gaze had over me, I stepped away and he released my arm. “What are you doing here?”
Real smooth, Bree.
“Marissa told me where to find you.” He bent to pick up the mop and placed it back in the bucket’s holder before grinning at me. “The real Marissa, I should add. She mentioned something about you stepping in for her because you owed her.”
“What!” My mouth dropped open again. Leave it to Marissa to turn things around like that. “That lying little… She owes me. Never the other way around.”
My exasperation only seemed to amuse Dominic further. “After meeting her, I can believe that.”
I sighed. “Well, on behalf of us both, I apologize. I’m not in the habit of impersonating my sister, in case you were wondering.”
He chuckled. “Duly noted. Though I can’t say I object to the results.”
I wasn’t sure what results he referred to, but I also hadn’t noticed the bouquet of red roses in his hand until just then. Not a single petal or leaf had fallen during his rescue of my clumsy near-fall.
The romantic gesture was surprising for someone like him but also had me rolling my eyes internally. Roses. Pretty, but typical. “Stopped by before a date?”
“That’s the plan.” Delight twinkled across his whiskey-hued eyes.
The thought of him taking another woman on a date made a knot twist in my stomach. Which was just ridiculous. My little fantasy of a steamy night together was just that—a fantasy. “Don’t want to keep her waiting. Did you need something else?”
“I need you to answer a question first,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Go for it.”
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
I blinked at him. Wait, what? He wanted to take me out? Like, for real? I must be high on bleach fumes or still daydreaming back in the bathroom. This couldn’t be real life.
For one, I looked and smelled atrocious. He had gotten an up-close-and-personal whiff when he caught me.
For two, he was way out of my league. Fathoms. Whatever was deeper than fathoms, that far. There was no way he actually wanted to take me on a date knowing what he did now.
The silence stretched on until he finally asked, “Well?”
I shifted my weight slightly. “Well, what?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask a question,” I pointed out and immediately grimaced.
Was everyone this awkward around impossibly good-looking men?
Or just me?
He grinned. “I sense a family resemblance in more than looks. Are you always this difficult?”
“Yes, now go away. The gym’s closed for cleaning.” Mentally kicking myself for not locking the door earlier, I reached for the mop and bucket, ready to get back to work. With any luck, he’d take the hint.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
Today was not my lucky day. “I mean, you can because you’re physically able to. But you may not. Scram.”
Spinning away from him, I pushed the bucket in front of me. My face practically caught on fire, and my heartbeat thudded loudly in my ears. I didn’t think I could get any more awkward, yet here I was, spouting off grammar rules and words like “scram.”
