Page 62 of Protecting Love

UNDER YOUR NOSE

“Just drop us off out front, Marcus,” Fletcher said forty minutes later.

“I can go up alone,” Paris argued.

For a non-date, that was sure one of the best dates she’d had in a long time.

Not the fancy part of it.

That was more like business.

And though she was used to being in settings like that, it was the last place she wanted to be.

All those eyes on her. Maybe not her and just her table, but they were still eyes.

For someone who wanted to stay out of people’s view, it just made her uncomfortable.

Or it could have been the smoking kind-of-bodyguard next to her that was doing it.

Yeah. It was that. Totally that.

From the ease in which he wore a suit, to the way he tried to relax her.

It hadn’t worked.

Not until they got their second dinner of the night.

The one he bought before she could get her card out. Then he sat next to her in the booth.

Yep, it was for protection. She knew. But it was silly.

And maybe her mind went to thoughts it had no business doing.

“I’m bringing you up,” he said. “No arguing.”

“How are you getting home if you just get dropped off?”

“I’ll see you in thirty,” he said to Marcus and shut the door that she’d just climbed out of.

“Oh. So he’s coming back?”

“Yes. There is no reason for him to sit out front and by the time he fills the tank up and comes back it’ll be thirty. He’ll text when he’s on the way.”

“Got it.”

So it had nothing to do with spending some more time with her.

He was probably bringing her upstairs, looking around at nothing, then would leave and wait in the lobby for Marcus to return and bring him home to his son. And she had to remember that.

He had a kid at home. And had been divorced.

He confessed to her the reasons for it.

Unless he was making it up.

Could he do that?

Why would he just open up with her otherwise unless he was only yanking her chain?