Page 50 of Playing Mr. Perfect

Sweetheart feels different now, too. Bigger, more intimate. “Who should we ask where to go?” I look at the people around us.

“I already asked a guy.”

“When? We haven’t stopped to talk to anyone.”

His dimples come out to play. “You didn’t see me talking to a great-looking dude with excellent bone structure?”

God, he makes my cheeks hurt. “Does he happen to go by the name Mr. Perfect?”

“Not if he can help it. Come on, Reckless. Your surprise awaits.”

My heart skips. “Surprise?”

His grin knocks my socks off as he takes my hand, pulling me along as he rushes toward the steps that lead to the road, and I get caught up in the whirlwind that is Clay Braden. We go from the river to a carousel. A carousel! Although it’s not quite sunset, the carousel lights twinkle against the dusky sky. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower stands like a romantic sentinel watching over us. Now I wish I did climb the tower with my family, if for no other reason than to have known what the view of all the places Clay and I have visited today look like from above.

“I haven’t been on a carousel since I was a little girl,” I say as we choose our horses.

Clay helps me onto a horse. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on one.”

“Ever? I thought carousels were like a rite of passage.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t have a conventional childhood, remember?”

When he told me about his childhood, I was so focused on the things he was sharing with me, I didn’t think about the things he’d missed out on. “I’m glad I get to share this first with you.”

“Me too.” He climbs onto a horse and reaches across the space between us. “Give me that hand, Reckless.”

It’s ridiculous the way my heart flutters as I take his hand. The carousel starts, and I grab the pole with my other hand as my horse moves up and down.

“Look over here, beautiful.”

I look over and he snaps a picture. “Hey.” I’m sure he caught me with a goofy grin.

“I want to remember that smile in your eyes, and before you say I’m being cheesy, you should know I don’t care if I am, because it’s true.”

He holds up his phone to take more pictures, and I make silly faces, feeling like a teenager with a crush. When we get off the carousel, he pulls me into a kiss. Then he’s rushing us off again, leading me toward the Eiffel Tower.

“Are we climbing the tower?” I ask.

“Yes. You didn’t get to do it yesterday, and you can’t leave without getting the best view of the city.”

Thrills sweep through me as we make our way there. “We need tickets.”

“Already taken care of.”

“We can’t go to the top.”

“I know the rules.” When we get to the tower, he leads me around the line of people waiting for their turn and heads for a dark-haired man wearing a black coat.

“Mr. Blanchet?” Clay asks.

The man nods, a cordial smile gracing his angular face. “Mr. Braden.” He shakes Clay’s hand and turns that friendly smile on me. “Ms. Montgomery.”

Thoroughly confused, I say, “Hello,” and look questioningly at Clay.

“Right this way,” Mr. Blanchet says. “We need to do a security check before we can go up in the tower.”

Clay puts a hand on my back as we follow him, and I whisper, “What’s going on?”