“Sorry,” I said, leaning in a little. “You’re just really pretty. I got distracted. Ask me again, slower this time.”
She scoffed, but her smile betrayed her. “I said we have the end date. Is there anything else we need to cover?”
“Oh. Right.” I cleared my throat but still couldn’t help my eyes drifting down to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Well, how do you want to do this? We obviously need to be seen together, make it believable.”
She was all business—which, if I was being honest, only made her more attractive.
“I have zero concerns about believability.” I threw in a wink because self-control was for lesser men.
She laughed and playfully shoved my shoulder from across the table. “Stop. I’m being serious.”
“Okay, okay.” I held my hands up. “We hit some public spots. Dinner. Events. Maybe a red carpet or two if you’re feeling dramatic. You obviously need to come to the Super Bowl if I make it there. And come to Woodstone with me sometimes. Small town, but if you want believable, that’s where I’m usually at when I can be. Everyone there knows I don’t bring just anyone home.”
She tilted her head. “When are you going next?”
“Tonight. Wanna come?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Tonight?”
“Why not?”
“I mean, we haven’t even announced we’re dating yet, and meeting your family? That feels…big.”
I gave her a look, one brow raised. “You’ve technically already met half of them, remember?”
She narrowed her eyes, but I caught the corner of her mouth twitching. “That doesn’t count.”
“I’m staying at my brother-in-law’s extra place. It’s empty. Plenty of space. You could have a room too.”
Her gaze sharpened. “You’re inviting me to crash at your family’s extra house?”
“More like extending a very generous offer,” I smirked. “Think of it as neutral ground. No pressure. Just proximity.”
Her phone rang. She glanced down, then ignored it.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “When are you headed there again after today?”
“Haven’t planned it yet, but I go whenever I can. It’s home.”
Her phone rang again, and she sighed.
“You can grab that if you need to. I don’t mind.”
She gave me this look. It was soft and a little sad. Then she nodded and answered. “Hey, Rach. What’s up?” A long pause, and then her eyes widened. “Please tell me you’re not serious. You’re joking, right?” Another pause. “Oh no, no, no, no.”
“Everything okay?” I leaned in.
And I shouldn’t have, because she smelled like flowers and whatever heaven was supposed to smell like—sweet, soft, and completely wrecking my focus.
She mouthedone secand turned away slightly.
“Yeah, well…what do we do now?” she said into the phone. “Okay… No, not really, but if we don’t have much of a choice, then… Let me check. I’ll text you. Love you. Bye.”
She hung up and stared at the table like it had personally betrayed her.
“You okay?” I murmured.
