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“Huh?” I jerk on his hand, forcing him to stop. “Where’s Katy?”
He gives me a dimpled smile that makes my belly swoop. “At a sleepover.”
“What? With whom?”
He drags me over to the side of the building so we’re not standing out in the open. He shrugs up a shoulder. “I don’t know. Some girl from her camp.”
“What do you mean some girl from her camp?” I squawk incredulously, my hand flying about. “How can you not know whose house your kid is sleeping at?”
He chuckles, stepping in closer to me, his hand still holding mine, his thumb grazing along the inside of my wrist. “Holly St. Nick, and yes, that’s her real name. She’s six. Her birthday is January fifth. Her mother’s name is Noelle St. Nick. They live on the corner of Beacon and Arlington. The mother is an heiress from New York but works at a nonprofit for children’s literacy. She has a clean record with not even a speeding ticket to her name. No boyfriend or daddy and Holly was the product of a sperm donation.”
I shake my head. “How do you know all that?”
“I had Lenox run a background check.” His smirk grows lopsided, the setting sun casting a pinkish-orange glow behind him. “But your confidence in me is overwhelming. Truly, I’m touched.” He pokes the center of my chest with his free hand. “Did you actually believe that I’d let Katy go off with someone I don’t know?”
I ignore that because, no, I didn’t. “Lenox can run background checks?”
He steps in even closer to me. So close I can smell his cologne and see every beautiful fleck of blue in his eyes. So close I have to crane my neck to see him.
“I won’t tell you all the things Lenox can do or you’d never sleep through the night again. Just know he’s a scary force of computer nature, and I’m glad he’s on my side.” He rocks back on his heels and then forward until his chest brushes mine. He tugs on my hair, looping it around his finger. “So back to that sushi.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Most definitely. But if you’re more comfortable, we can simply call it me taking advantage of a child-free night. I hear single parents don’t get a ton of those.”
I squint, forcing my lips into a hard line so I don’t smile. “Are you hitting on me?”
“That depends on your definition of hitting on you and whether or not you’re against the notion.”
I make a disagreeable sound even though my heart isn’t totally sold on it. “Why the sudden change? We agreed to no nookie.”
“Never in my life have I ever uttered the wordnookie. I missed you today. I want to have dinner with you. Simple as that.”
Swoon! Fucking motherfucking swoon! Sexy bastard. The truth is, I’ve missed him too. “Are you trying to break my rules?”
“Again, that depends on your definitions and willingness. The wordbreakis a bit harsh, don’t you think? I’m merely suggesting creating amendments. I am your fiancé.” His gaze pins to mine, unblinking.
“Fake fiancé,” I remind him.
“True, but practice makes perfect.”
Ugh. He’s so damn cute. “What kind of amendments are you proposing?”
“You’re asking an awful lot of questions.” He tugs on that lock of hair he’s still playing with. “I thought you were supposed to be the wild, adventurous one in this relationship.”
“Just answer me,” I demand.
“Right now, I’m only asking to take you out for dinner,” he says without missing a beat. “Sushi is your favorite and I know you can’t say no to it.”
Damn him. He’s right. I can’t say no to it. I’m also finding it more and more impossible to say no tohim. I’m not sure I even want to.
“Sushi is also your favorite,” I toss back at him.
“True. We have so much in common. I’m glad you pointed that out.”
He pauses, humor dancing in his every feature, but beneath it, there’s a vulnerability that tugs at me. It’s as if I can feel his nerves, hear his heart racing. He’s worried about being here, flirting with me, and asking me to dinner.
“So… do I get a date with my stunning fiancée?”
