LAYLA
“Do I look okay?” I turn in the mirror, asking my cat.
Is this really what my life has come to? Talking to my cat and asking for fashion advice for my first date with my fake boyfriend?
Luna yawns, returning to licking her paw.
“Lot of help you are,” I mutter.
Spinning back to the mirror, I give myself another appraising look. I paired my denim cut-off shorts with a white blouse and white sneakers. It’s perfect for the summer nights here in Dixon.
Simple, yet appropriate for a first date in town.
Thinking about the date has nerves twisting my stomach. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been out on a first date. Sure, I had a few dates here and there after my divorce, but I didn’t count them as dates.
There were no nerves, no pressure. I went into them knowing nothing would come of them. I wasn’t looking for love then. I’m still not.
Then why am I so nervous for tonight?
A knock on my door echoes through the quiet apartment. Luna makes no move to get up from the bed, instead burrowing under the duvet.
Swiping one last layer of lip gloss on, I spritz myself with perfume and head to the door. Taking a centering breath, I open the door to Simon.
He looks casual in a plaid, short-sleeve button-up and jeans. But it’s the look in his eyes as they travel over me that sets me on fire.
Because Simon is looking at me like he is ready to devour me.
“You look beautiful, Layla.” Simon leans in, dropping a kiss on my cheek. It sends more nerves racing through me.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He runs a hand down his shirt. “Like I fit in with the locals?”
“Is that the look you’re going for?” I grab my purse from the counter and step out the door.
“I ran into Blake as I was leaving and he told me the leather jacket might be too grungy.”
I laugh. “Of course Blake is helping you try to fit in.” I lock the door behind me.
He shrugs a shoulder as I follow him down the stairs onto the main drag. “Hey, if it helps you, then I’m all for it.”
The comment brings me back to reality.
Simon is helping my reputation to make sure I don’t lose my shop. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Where are we going tonight?”
“How about Dixon Bar and Grill? Fewer prying eyes from family.”
I laugh as we walk in that direction. “You’ve been around the Winchester family for all of a week and you’ve already pegged us. Peter wouldn’t leave us alone if we went to The Tipsy Cocktail.”
Simon reaches for my hand, linking it with his. A zap of electricity shoots up my arm.
“Hand-holding?” I suck in a breath.
“It’s what couples do, love.”
“Right.”
