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“Next time,” I promise, patting his arm, and Kingston rumbles and draws me closer, tucking me against his side. Lord, he’s so big and warm and muscly andfine.Can’t believe he wants to date me—even as make-believe. This is like the best daydream ever.
“You like barbecue?” Kingston asks, steering me toward the scent of meat.
Um,yeah.
“‘Course I like barbecue.” It’s so nice walking with him like this, jostling and swaying into each other. Teasing and chatting. “What do you take me for?”
“Right. Come on, then.” My boss steers me toward a nearby food truck on the outskirts of the crowd, but not before he ducks down to murmur in my ear. “I want to see you get all sticky, Danielle. Want to see that little appetite run wild.”
Holy hell.
I gulp, my mouth already watering.
His wish is my command.
Six
Kingston
This is practice. It’s only practice. I keep reminding myself of that fact, reciting it over and over in my brain, but it’s so goddamn hard to remember. I can’t picture some imaginary other woman here with me, not when Danielle is so sweet and solid andrealas I swing her around the dance floor. Not when her shouts of laughter make my chest ache.
I picked the wrong girl to practice my husband skills on. Because even though we’re only on our first rehearsal date, it’s clear already: Danielle is my dream woman.
A little too young for me, sure. Definitely too employed by me. And sweeter than I deserve.
But my heart and body are both insistent. She’s it.
What a mess.
“Jeez! I’m about to drop dead from all this dancing, boss man.” Danielle beams up at me, clinging to my elbow as I lead her away from the fray. Her cheeks are flushed permanent pink from all the exertion, and her piercing blue eyes are bright. “Husband tip number two: your lady will get tired. Find her a spot to sit down and catch her breath.”
We both cast looks around the open barns and the lit up food trucks, but there are no seats to be had. Every chair’s taken by a grinning local, fanning themselves against the sticky nighttime heat.
“Or not,” Danielle says. She really is tired, swaying against me.
Well, that won’t do. And my solution may not be glamorous, but it’s better than her being uncomfortable.
“Up we go,” I mutter, and it’s the only warning Danielle gets before she’s scooped into my arms, cradled against my chest. She squawks in alarm, but those arms loop around my neck, and barely a breath later, she’s melting against me. A sigh shivers against my ear.
“I wasn’t hinting.” Slender fingers play in my hair, scratching at my scalp. Feels so fucking good, I can barely process it. She’s really touching me like that? On purpose?
“I know that.”
Danielle’s not the type to hint andsuggestand tiptoe around a topic. That’s why I asked her for help with my husband skills—figured she’d give honest feedback. Well, it’s one of the reasons, anyway.
“You’re a nice weight, Danielle.” I hitch her higher against my chest, feeling so pleased at the pull on my muscles. “You feel good and solid. Real.”
She snorts, thumping my shoulder, but she’s not mad. “Okay, tip number three. Don’t call your ladysolid, Kingston. She’s your date, not an oak cabinet.”
“Even if I love it?” I’m ducking too close to her, murmuring in her ear, and it’s probably crossing a line, but Danielle doesn’t shift away. She tips her head toward me too, until we’re whispering together like thieves.
“Even then. Hey, where are you carrying me off to? Gonna throw me in a ravine?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll toss you in my truck and take you home.”
Really, I just carry her to the edge of the action—far enough away from the crowds and the band that we can hear our own ears ring, but not so far that we’re cloaked in shadows. Then I lean my back against the nearest barn and slide down the wood, sitting on my ass on the crunchy dried grass.
Danielle could get down now if she wanted, but she stays in my lap. Wriggles to get comfy, her little ass pure torment against my thighs. Her hair slides inside my shirt collar, tickling my neck.
