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“Yup,” Addie mimics, not moving from her spot, arms crossed over her chest.
“See you later, then.” I don’t give her a chance to respond as I make my way out the door and down the porch steps.
“Is she always like that?” Chance asks, right behind me.
“Pretty much.”
I reach for the handle of his truck when a large hand slams down against the window. A blast of fiery heat lights through my body as a hard wall of muscles pushes against my backside, trapping me against the door.
“You can’t go around telling people this isn’t real, sweetheart. Otherwise, why are we doing this?” he growls in my ear.
Dammit, there’s that growl again.
His proximity, his heat, and his lowered, raspy voice do things to me that I don’t want to admit. I don’t want to think about the butterflies swirling around in my stomach, or the shiver that runs up my spine from his breath on my neck.
Nope, I’m not thinking about that.
“She’s not anyone; she’s my best friend,” I whisper in a shaky voice. “She won’t tell anyone.”
“She’d better not. I won’t be made a fool of, either, Dakota.”
The accusation in his voice makes me whip around. Placing a hand on his hard chest, I press to try to give me space, but he doesn’t move. All I feel are the hard lines of his chest. His intense heat. The thumping of his heart under my palm.
“Are you saying Wyatt doesn’t know what’s going on?” I raise an eyebrow at him, no longer pushing on his chest, but not lowering my hand, either.
“He knows,” he grinds out.
“So we’re even, then.”
We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, neither one of us daring to even breathe. His heart under my hand picks up its pace, beating rapidly against his chest, revealing there’s more going on under that cool exterior of his.
The longer he looks at me, the more his expression changes. Underneath the simmering anger is something else, that if it were anyone other than Chance, I would say was longing. Desire?
No, there’s no way. Men like Chance Declan don’t feel that for women like me. He, especially, only feels annoyance. No matter how much I still think about that kiss in the bar parking lot. How it set my body on fire unlike any other kiss I’d ever had. I go to sleep every night thinking about it, whether I want to or not.
With a final huff, he takes a step back, finally letting me take a breath. I suck in the sweet night air, letting it cool my overheated body. Without looking away, he reaches behind me and pulls on the door handle. The cold metal bumps against me briefly before I move out of its way.
I can’t help but search the neighbourhood for anyone that might have seen us. Me pressed against Chance’s truck. Him leaning in, caging me. Blocking me.
To anyone else, it must have looked like we were making out, sharing a heated moment.
It was heated alright, but not because of that.
I climb into his truck with an eye roll, careful not to make a fool out of myself climbing into his lifted truck in my dress. The last thing I need is to be flashing him, and the neighbours, on our ‘date.’ But in reality, it is pointless to worry about people seeing us. That’s the whole damn point of this date. To be seen in public together.
I settle in the seat when the door is slammed, followed by Chance stalking across the front of the truck. Looks like I wasn’t the only one affected by our little encounter.
This is going to be a long couple of weeks.
Chapter Eight
Chance
“It would help if you didn’t look at me like you wanted to stab me with your fork,” Dakota says in a sing-song voice as she scans her menu.
Forcing myself to relax, I pick up my own, but I don’t see the words in front of me. I know we’re surrounded by people and they’re all stealing glances. All keeping their eyes on us, even if they wouldn’t dare meet my own.
I clear my throat, sitting straighter in my chair. I need to work harder at looking like I am unaffected by the woman across the table from me. While I do resent her for putting us in this position, I also recognize it’s not entirely her fault.
