Sparkle?
“Someone perfectly normal. Mundane even,” she added. “You, Ethan, are definitely not normal nor mundane. Even if it’s for pretend, I can’t date you.”
“Because I sparkle?” On that, he grinned.
She nodded, pressed her fingers to her eyelids.
“Assuming I were to agree, how would this even work?” she asked, talking with her hands. He had to watch out, so he didn’t take an accidental whack.
Good. This was the good stuff where she was nearly ready to agree.
“Like a normal relationship, but without all the dodgy feelings and such.” Just like that.
“There is no way this would end well for either of us…” She blew out a breath. A long one.
He nodded. “Yeah. It could be a right mess.” He threw on as much charm as he could as he added, “But it doesn’t need to be messy. It’s not for very long and we are adults—we can handle this. Doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“I haven’t been on a real date in years,” she said with a slightly hysterical laugh. “My first post-married date should not be phony.”
She fidgeted with her hands, then clearly forced herself to stop, and slipped them in her pockets.
“You should know that about the woman you’re asking. That’s important information. You should seriously find someone else because I will be shit at this. Though…”
“Though, what?” he asked, carefully.
“Maybe this would be good for me. An introduction into the dating pool without any risk.” She pondered that. “Actually…nope, still a horrible idea. Just mildly less.”
He squinted because the sun was super bright, then remembered he did have one skill he hadn’t used yet.
“Righto,” he said. “What if I make you steak? Scallops? Chicken Marsala? You name it. I’ll cook whatever you like for the duration of our time together.”
“Are you trying to bribe me to be your fake girlfriend with your seductive culinary skills?” she asked.
“Is it working?” Because if it was, then he’d keep right on going.
“The answer is still no.” She held up her hands. “It’s just not going to work.”
He bounced on his toes. “Bugger.”
“I mean…what about the girls?” Em asked. “It’s just a mess in the making.”
Wherehadthe girls run off to? He scanned the field. They must’ve tossed the ball behind the net.
“Annie!” he called.
Red faced, they came back ‘round, still kickin’ the ball back and forth, waving in their direction.
“We could be straight up with them. Let them in on the ruse,” he assured. “That way, no one gets upset.”
“By no one, you mean Annie?” Em asked, raising her eyebrows in that way of hers that made him question if this was the right choice. But, dammit all, he didn’t want an actual girlfriend.
He nodded. “She’s a wonderful girl, but she’s got her head stuck on finding me a wife and herself a mum.”
“I love that she’s taken on Fiona as a friend and that means you and I are… friends. But we can’t risk getting her hopes up with a ruse like this. She’s already in a delicate place.”
“Bloody hell.” The weight of the damn hashtag pressed harder. “You’re right, Em.”
“I’d still like to order some of that raspberry stuff you made the other night,” she added, like they were actually at a restaurant.
