Page 91 of Just for Tonight

“That’s how we’ll play it then. More than a PDA. We’re a couple. The plan was that I’d arrive tomorrow which is why you were available tonight. I called you to let you know I’d be early, but your phone was off.” Jake shakes his head at me, his expression so rueful that it could all be true. “You’re always doing that.” I smile because I actually do. “When you walk away, pull out your phone and check it, then laugh as if you’ve just found the message.”

I nod agreement and kiss his chin. “Brilliant.”

“Then have your dinner. I’ll have mine. Join me after your business is done.” He puts a warm fingertip beneath my chin, tipping my face up. Our faces are very, very close and I love my sense that we’re a team, covering each other’s backs. It’s just a moment, but it would be heaven to have someone to count on. “When he’s gone, I’ll take you home. Okay?”

“Perfect.” I touch my lips to his. “You’re a genius.”

“I know.”

“And modest, too.”

He nods. “It’s a bear thing.”

“Thank you.”

“Kind of a novelty, using my powers for good.” Jake’s grin is wicked and he winks at me, just as the hostess appears to seat him. We part and I follow the script, checking my phone and shaking my head at my own foolishness when I pretend to find his message.

The atmosphere is different when I take my seat again. My companion’s gaze is assessing and a lot cooler. “Friend of yours?”

“Oh, more than a friend,” I say smoothly and smile. “I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow, but he was able to drive down early. It was a surprise.” I don’t have to pretend to be pleased. I know I’m a little flushed and I just go with it. A woman in love. Maybe I am. “How is the lamb?”

25

Jake

I’m the bear.

It would be funnier if it didn’t feel true. I’m experiencing violent urges toward the dapper older man dining with Mackenzie. I would like to go grizzly on Knightley, give him a little taste of what predators like him deserve.

Instead, I do the one thing that is guaranteed to drive him bonkers: I ignore him.

It’s a complete fluke that I’m even here, in the right place at the right time. I was in good shape to shave seventeen minutes off my best Toronto-to-Empire door-to-door when I realized that The Carpe Diem Café would probably be closed by the time I got there. I’m starving. I don’t know Havelock well enough to find that restaurant again, but I remembered the name of it and the GPS did the rest.

Turns out I arrived in the nick of time, like some bloody knight in shining armor. Not my usual role, but I don’t mind making an exception.

I took the barest glance at him when Mackenzie accosted me – and I mean ‘accost’ in the best way possible. I’m warm to my toes, thanks to that fleeting kiss, and feel as if I’ve been jolted back to life after a long dull drive – but I will not even glance their way again. If I looked, it would mean he was important or a threat to me. The so-called Knightley is no more significant than a fly on the wall. I am content to dine, confident that my supposed girlfriend’s attention can’t be stolen away. I am the rock in her foundation and I give every appearance of knowing it.

Of course, I want to study him. Of course, I want to glare at him. But I know his type and I know how to shake his tree.

The fact is that my thoughts are on Mackenzie. I like that she asked me for help. I like that she appealed to me, even if she did cast me as the bear. And I really like that she flushed when she checked her phone. She even glanced over her shoulder at me, looking guilty and pleased, a perfect touch for her audience but one that got me right where I live.

Because she looks like that – a little pink, a little flustered, a little out of control – right before she comes. And once I realize that, my thoughts head to a very predictable destination.

She has me tied up in knots and the only smart thing is to make sure she never knows it.

I will not think about the crown prince trying to lure her away to British Columbia.

Mackenzie is beautiful, and she’s particularly so tonight. She’s twisted up her hair in an updo similar to the one she had when we met, which reminds me of pulling out the pins and watching all that blonde wavey goodness tumble over her shoulders once we got back to my place. She’s wearing a sleek black dress, which looks plain but is cut (or fitted) perfectly to show her figure to advantage. It’s modest, yet somehow also sexy as hell.

To be honest, she could wear nothing at all and be sexy as hell.

Wait. That isn’t right. She could wear anything at all and be sexy as hell.

She’s wearing black suede spike heels which do delicious things to her calves and (again) remind me of sliding my finger beneath the satin of her pumps that first night we shared together, running it along her arch and making a celebration of removing that shoe. Actually, undressing her that night was a complete indulgence, one that I took slow and savoured all the way. Talk about a reward, having Mackenzie, all sleek and golden, naked and willing at the end.

I am not thinking about dinner.

But no one would guess. (I hope.)