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Ben lifts my hand to his mouth again. This time, he kisses me on the inside of my wrist, and my heart skips a beat as tremors run down the inside of my arm. His smile is cheeky and causes me to laugh at myself.
“Seriously, where is the girl code in this town?” I mutter, wishing he was kissing my wrist because he wants to, but knowing it is all just for show. Sasha’s no doubt hiding somewhere in the restaurant, still watching. So I grin and gaze lovingly at him, playing the part.
“So what were you going to ask me?” I tilt my head, ready for his question.
“Rosie and George. You seem pretty close to both of them?” he asks, and I remain still. That is not the question I was expecting.
“Yes, we are close. George is wonderful. He’s a fantastic boss and an even better friend,” I say, smiling, thinking of him and wondering what he and Rosie are doing at the moment.
“And Rosie?” This is where I should tell him that she is my daughter. It is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get it out.
The waiter comes to my rescue with our food, and I steer the conversation to safer territory.
“So your mother knows we are engaged, then? I bet that will be an interesting conversation for you?” I ask, before stuffing my mouth with the softest gnocchi I have ever eaten.
“Everything to do with my mother is interesting, and not in a good way,” he says, clear resentment in his tone.
“She can’t be that bad. She raised four boys; that is a hard life for anyone!” I only have Rosie, and she leaves me exhausted most nights. I can’t imagine raising four children.
“She didn’t really raise us. I mean, she was around, and when I was younger, she was great. But we each had a nanny, and private boarding school as we got older, then we were off to college. None of us were around her much, to be honest,” he says, cutting into his steak, and I have food envy for a moment.
“What about your parents? Do you see them much?” he asks, and I feel my heart grow heavy.
“No. They passed when I was younger. I bounced around relatives throughout my teens before hitting college.” Thinking back, I am not sure how I would have survived if I hadn’t met Jeremy. I met him fresh out of college at a city bar. He is a decade older and was having drinks with colleagues. At the time, I was living with friends, starting my career journey with various internships and trying to see what fit. He flew in, treated me like a princess, and swept me up so fast I didn’t know what hit me.
Until he did.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily.” The look in his eyes isn’t one of pity; it’s of comfort. If only I could experience this from a man I was going to be with for real. Feeling tears burning the backs of my eyes, I decide to move on to safer topics than my past.
We are able to chat effortlessly for the entire rest of the night, both of us forgetting that this is a business arrangement as we find some common ground. The date passes too quickly, and I am surprised to have actually enjoyed myself once again. My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much. Now as I take my full belly to freshen up in the ladies’ room, I smile at my reflection, wondering if I should have stayed away from the city as long as I have. I am sure both Sarah and Allie would love to come here, and I imagine a lovely girls’ lunch at this restaurant one day. That gnocchi was seriously the best.
I wash my hands in the sink, already excited to get back to the man who waits for me at the table. A few women walk in, each of them running their eyes over me, probably assessing if I am worthy of such a man’s attention. I can feel my tough exterior starting to crack and my heart defrosting, and I know I can’t let it. But it’s seeming impossible to avoid.
Pressing my dress down, I pull my shoulders back. He is my fake fiancé; he is using me to keep his former girlfriend away, and I am trying to embed him into the school culture to try to save it.
That is it.
I am firm and confident as I stare at my reflection before walking out of the bathroom. I hold my breath and look around anxiously before making it exactly two steps until I see him and feel off-kilter again. He stands off to the side, waiting for me. His hands are in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankle, leaning against the wall. I come to a sharp stop as our eyes openly devour each other.
“Ready to go?” he murmurs as he pushes off the wall and walks to my side, looking like every woman’s dream man. His hand automatically slides around my middle, like it was always meant to be there, fingers gentle but firm as he pulls me close. It feels so good. Like he is keeping me with him. Safe, tucked into him, like he never wants to let me go.
“I’m ready.” The words leave my mouth breathier than I was planning, and I watch his eyes as they move from mine, down to my lips, and back again. The bathroom door opens behind me then, and I see Ben’s eyes flick up to whom I assume are the two women who followed me in earlier, before looking back at me.
“Let’s give them something to talk about,” he whispers, his face lowering to mere inches from mine.
“This wasn’t in our agreement,” I whisper back, my heart pounding harder in my chest.
“I’m a lawyer. I am making an adjustment to our original agreement,” he taunts, his face edging even closer.
“Well then, I want something in return too,” I say quietly, my hands already running up his chest of their own accord. The need I have to be close to him is almost suffocating.
“What do you want?” he murmurs, his nose skimming my jawline, my nipples peaking against my dress at the sensation. My legs weaken a little as his grip around my waist tightens.
“We have a school excursion in a few weeks, and we need volunteers.” We’re sharing breath at this point, our lips hovering over each other’s.
“Done,” he growls without hesitation before officially closing the distance. In this darkened corner of the restaurant, Ben kisses me like he means it.
His soft lips massage lightly against mine, but with purpose. I swallow a moan at the feel of him, my grip on his lapels white-knuckled as our bodies press together, not an inch left between us. His hands spread over my back, keeping me close, before one lowers a little, skimming over the curve of my ass. This is the first kiss I have had in years, and it ignites a deep feeling of longing within me. It should feel weird, like it isn’t meant to work, but it does. Oh, it does.
