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“And about… her, I guess.” Another sip. “Nana can be a lot.”
He chuckles so sincerely it makes me shiver.
“Stop apologizing, Junie. Death cake aside, she’s honest and likable. That’s a hell of a lot more than I can say for most people.”
Yikes.
Why does he sound so sincere?
I told him I didn’t want him to be an asshole but… he’s actually put on his nice guy hat for so long it’s like he’s forgotten we’re pretending. And he won Nana over with flipping stars.
“Thanks for forcing down dessert. You did really well! I’d say I’m sorry for you having to work it off, but something tells me you enjoy beating things up in your gym.” Amusement creeps into my voice. “Honestly, though, I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it at the end.”
He snorts, shaking his head.
“The fudge was a struggle. Took me back to my days when I had to live on military rations. The pudding those fucks stuffed in the kits was unholy. Chalky as hell and too sweet by half. Still, if that was the worst part of the night, we got off easy.”
And we did. Unbelievably.
The rest of it—the holding hands, the pretending, the constant lies—I didn’tenjoywhat we were doing, exactly, but it was easier than I ever expected.
So was having Dex cut in and save me before my big mouth stalled and got us into more trouble.
“I think fooling your fellow suit will be easier now,” I say. “We’ve got our script and some good experience acting like a couple.”
“It wasn’t bad,” he agrees. There’s real surprise in his voice as he looks out across the lights. “Guess your nana hoped we’d end up out here.”
“I think she was going to push us out if we didn’t go willingly.” I lean against his arm, partly for support, partly for warmth after the rain. “But it’s nice having a minute to breathe, isn’t it?”
Silence falls between us as he nods, but it’s not awkward like before.
When he stops behaving like a fire-breathing grouch, he’s not that hard to talk to.
With most people, you’re always looking for something to say, but Dex seems as comfortable in the silence as I am.
I set my wineglass on the patio table next to us.
“Tell me something,” I say, the alcohol making me bold.
“Yeah?” He gives me a suspicious glance.
“Why aren’t you married already? Or you know, at least keeping busy with a harem of models. I saw your brother has a kid. Isn’t that what most rich guys do?”
“Archer’s not with anyone now. His life is complicated.” He turns and gives me his full attention, a grimly amused smile playing on his lips. “And what the hell would you know about what rich men do, Sweet Stuff?”
Again, that dumb nickname.
My cheeks are redder than cardinals.
“I dunno.” I wave a clumsy hand. “It’s just, you work all the time, but you must have women chasing you. Especially when you’re young and hot.”
“I’m young and hot now? Big praise from a woman who hates my ass. Better watch your mouth.” He raises an eyebrow.
Oh my God. My big mouth is finally working its magic, just delayed.
“No, don’t take it back,” he says, catching my wrist as I wave it in the air too close to his face. “I like it.”
“I’m embarrassed now.”
