Her jaw stiffened. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do,” he argued, an astonished laugh sneaking up his throat. “Youdefinitelyowe me some details if you expect me to show up to dinner tomorrow night.”
Her chin dropped now too. She leveled a disbelieving look at him. “You wouldnotactually show up to dinner for me.”
“I might,” Burke said, surprising himself as much as he was her. “If you agree to tell me how all this started.” He kept his eyes trained on her, enjoying the way those inner wheels turned.
She lifted a hand to her hip and narrowed her eyes. Spots of heat flickered low in his belly as he held her gaze in return.
Attraction.That’s what this was. There was something between them; he could feel it. It had been a long while since he’d felt this sort of attraction, and even longer since it hadn’t made him want to run.
“Promise?” she asked. “If I tell you…do you promise you’ll come tomorrow night?”
That look—so pleading. And those eyes…she could be asking him to jump off the Manhattan Bridge and his answer would still be the same. “Absolutely.”
“Why?” Her brow scrunched up. “You don’t have anything to gain.”
Burke’s heart skipped a beat or two in the moment of contemplation. Whywashe agreeing to do it? “Well, Iwillbe in town for a while, that’s the truth. And, um…I’ve got a couple of fishing poles at my place in hopes to catch a few trout. This way, I don’t have to do the dirty work. I never did like cutting through that scaly fish skin.” Which is why, the one time hedidcatch something on that Alaskan excursion, he’d paid someone to do that part for him.
A smile pulled at her lips. A broad and beautiful one. Forget the tiny
hint of a grin he’d earned before. This was magnificent. Full, natural lips framing a set of flawless teeth, and a dimple that had him wanting to brush the back of his hand over her rounded cheek.
Only trouble was, he wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn it. “What’s so funny?”
“Youfish?”
On guided fishing excursions along the Pacific, yes, but she didn’t need to know that. “I have before. Twice.” He lifted a finger. “Three times, actually.”
“Well,” she said with the shake of her head. “Thank you, then. For agreeing to come tomorrow. As for the autumn festival, I’ll think of a reason you can’t be there. Maybe an emergency can come up or something.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod. But they still had a few things to work out. “We need to get you home, get your truck home, and, of course, you have to give me the full story on this fiancé of yours.”
He watched the contemplation in her hazel eyes as his pulse sped with anticipation.Say there isn’t really a fiancé, Justine, please.
But she only nodded instead. “Right.”
Dang.
“How about this,” he posed as an idea came to mind. “I take you to the steakhouse place you were talking about—that makes me a littlelessof a liar—and you tell me all about it there. My treat,” he added.
This made her smile again. “You’re definitely not from around here. Wilfred wasn’t kidding about the reservations. They’re booked for weeks out.”
Now it was Burke’s turn to smile. When money was plenty, the reservations were too. “You let me take care of that part. What do you say?”
Chapter 6
Yes. That’s what she’d said.
Justine replayed that conversation as Burke pulled onto her quiet drive. He’d asked her to the Steakhouse and she’d said yes.
“No gate on your property?” Burke asked as he tipped his head, eyes set on her house. A modest rambler that looked more square than rectangular from the front.
“No.” She gulped, reached for the door handle, and paused as a recollection came to mind. “Am I the one who hit you in the shin?” she asked. “Because if I am, I didn’t realize it. I was—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“Distracted,” she finished.
