Page 41 of Capture My Heart

Definitely date worthy, not that she remembered what a real date was like. She’d thrown herself into work for the last few years. Dates were a luxury she couldn’t afford. Hell, if it weren’t for the occasional hookup, her dry spell could rival Sister Agnes at St. Patrick’s. Relationships were not her strongest skill set.

Amy made a mental note to work on those skills after she solved the case. The ever present in her mind case. She rolled her eyes. Her father had worked on that case for years. Hell, now she had his case as well. She dropped her head and swore. She was screwed.

Blowing out as much stress as possible, she pasted on a fake smile and went to let in her fake boyfriend.

Could this get any worse?

Yes, yes it could. Trey stood on the other side of the threshold. Not Agent Fenley, not even gym owner Trey, nope. This was dream date Trey. The guy made the men on the Bachelor pale in comparison. His damp hair shown a shade darker than usual, making his steel-gray eyes pop from that chiseled face of his.

His T-shirt was the water wicking material that hugged his torso and showcased every muscle with glorious definition in his arms and chest then hung loose over his stomach. Her eyes trailed down to the khaki shorts that fit to that perfect ass like they were made for him. Like her handcrafted pistol grip was made for her.

Oh, she wanted to grab it just as bad.

He cleared his throat. “You look great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a skirt before.”

She looked down at herself then back to him. No way she’d confess she spent way too much time at lunch yesterday shopping for the perfect outfit. “Thanks. Let me grab my food and I’ll be ready to go.”

She put the dip and crackers in a bag and, at the last minute, grabbed the wine bottle from the bottom shelf.

At the door, Trey took the bag from her while she locked up. He smiled. “I would have pictured you as a red wine gal.”

She snorted. “Please, I’m a beer or whiskey girl. The wine is for Liz.”

He gave her an appraising look then nodded his approval. “Good to know.”

From the moment the car door closed, the fidgeting started. She couldn’t stop smoothing down her skirt fabric. Why do women wear these anyway?

Trey reached for something under the dash on her side of the car and brushed her leg on the way by.

Her hand shot out like lightning and grabbed his arm, bending it back to the verge of snapping. “What the…?”

“Whoa, easy there Bruce Lee. I’m just grabbing my charging cord.”

Amy spied the white wire dangling from the USB charging port by her knee. She dropped his arm. “Oh, sorry.”

He flexed his wrist and side-eyed her before focusing his attention back on the road.

I’m an idiot. She gave herself a mental head slap.

He cleared his throat. “So, if we’re going to sell this fake dating thing, you’ll need to not try to break my arm every time I touch you.”

“You startled me. That’s all. I won’t jump next time.” She hugged herself as she watched the houses go by. She didn’t know if she could do this, but she’d be damned if she’d let him know that.

She flinched at the faint touch on her elbow.

“Better.” He trailed his fingers along the outer edge of her arm.

A shiver followed his touch, but where his hand went down, the sensation traveled up.

“May I hold your hand?”

Her gaze flew from his hand to his face. No smirk, only an open and honest expression met hers. She slipped her fingers into his. He gave a light squeeze, then pulled her hand over to his leg where it stayed cradled in his.

Her eyes begged to slide to their joined hands, but she fought the urge to look for the rest of the trip. But she could feel it. Feel him.

He gently brushed his thumb over her knuckles. The light caress awakened nerve endings long forgotten. And wow, the back of her hand was sensitive. She felt every flex of his thigh, and damn, the man had impressive thighs.

When he finally dropped her hand to put the car in park, she let out a choppy breath.