Page 3 of Dating the Grump

“Did not.”

“Yes, she did.”

"Well, it doesn't matter now. It was an accident. Thank you for checking on me." A smile dances at her lips, softening her expression. Two dimples pop out on her cheeks. Jesus. Fuck me. I want those lips wrapped around my cock while she's coming on my face. Immediately. "I should let you get back to… whatever you're doing."

"You’re having dinner with me," I blurt.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, I…" She shakes her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm meeting someone."

"Who?" I growl, instantly pissed at the thought of her with someone else. My gaze flits to her finger, but she isn't wearing a ring. Which means she isn't married. Which means there's plenty of time for me to convince her that she's supposed to be with me.

What the fuck?

I try to shake the thought, but it refuses to dislodge.

"I… well, actually," she stutters, blushing again. "I'm not entirely sure. I've never met him." She leans close, her eyes big. "It's a blind date."

Well, fuck me.

If she’s here on a blind date… then she doesn’t know what her date looks like, right? It could be me.

Jesus Christ. I’m actually about to lie to an angel.

If hell is real, it’ll be worth the trip.

“I’m your date.”

Her eyes go comically wide. “Really? You’re Hunt Sola?” She exhales a giant breath. “Oh, thank God. I was expecting… Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting. But it wasn’t you.”

Wait a damn minute. She just said my name. Why did she say my name? My only date is the game my former teammates are losing–badly.

Oh, son of a bitch! The lady at the agency set me up. That’s what she meant by enjoy your night. She wasn’t giving up or graciously accepting that I fired her. She was blatantly ignoring me.

And I can’t even be pissed because she set me up with a fucking goddess.

Note to self: send her a bonus. And then fire her. Again.

“What’s your name, goddess?” I ask, wrapping my arm around hers to lead her toward my table.

“Molly Exley.”

“Well, Molly Exley,” I murmur, grinning down at her, the first time I’ve smiled in days. “It looks like our little matchmaker did us both a favor. Because I wasn’t expecting you either.”

She beams up at me, those damn dimples melting my fucking stone-cold heart.

Maybe this dating shit isn’t awful. If she’s involved, it doesn’t seem awful at all.

CHAPTER 2

MOLLY

The hottie holds my hand tight as we weave our way through the crowded bar. He guides me to a secluded table in the back and holds out my chair for me. After sitting next to me, he scoots his chair much closer than I anticipated. His presence is overwhelming, in the most electrifying way.

I have no control over my eyes as they slowly roam over him. His dark hair, thick and slightly tousled, adds to his rugged charm. The rich, inky strands contrast strikingly with his olive skin tone. The healthy tan of his complexion hints at a possible Hispanic heritage.

His green eyes are the most captivating part of his appearance—vivid and piercing, framed by thick lashes. A dusting of stubble covers his strong jawline, enhancing his rugged yet effortlessly stylish look. The stubble, dark against his olive skin, lends him an air of maturity and a hint of roguish charm. God. I’m starting to sound like whoever writes the Silver Spoon Single Serve gossip column.

"Comfortable?" he asks, his intense gaze making me all too aware of how close we are. His emerald green eyes hold mine captive as he lifts my hand up to his lips. When he places a soft kiss across my knuckles, I almost melt into a puddle of goo on the spot.

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