Page 35 of David's Proposal

I’d laugh if I didn’t have James’ eyes on me right now. That would be awkward.

So, no.

Besides, I barely got a taste of that girl, and she is so freed from people’s expectations and genuine in her reactions bynothaving to think about the consequences of her actions.

Seeing each other secretly, as we originally intended, works for us.

Well, maybe not tonight since she obviously has had something else to do.

“No. Of course not,” I say dismissively. “You know she’s not my type,” I add coldly, pushing to my feet and barely suppressing my need to reach inside my pocket, scoop out my phone, and check the screen again for new notifications.

“I sure do,” he says, smiling.

He buttons his suit jacket and runs his fingers through his hair.

“But you’ve asked about her…” he says, and I realize I’m on a slippery slope with him.

He walks toward the door, sliding past me.

“You never ask about anyone ever,” he comments.

And that’s truthfully a problem since I have a hard time concealing my interest in her.

“It’s not true. You know that,” I murmur, retrieving my phone behind him and checking it secretly like a teenager.

No news of any kind.

“I’ve asked about a lot of women. It’s just that I didn’t ask you,” I say, sliding my phone back into my pocket just as he shifts his attention to me.

He notices my move, and it’s not hard to figure out what I was doing.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah… I am.”

I set myself in motion, and he's holding the door for me before we’re both leaving his casino office.

“Who are you seeing these days?” he asks as we walk next to each other.

He invites me into the glass elevator. I step in before he does the same, pivots, and presses the button.

“No one in particular.”

“How come?”

The doors slide closed, and the elevator sets itself in motion.

“I’m too busy working and traveling. Plus I have company when I want to. It’s just that I’m not seeing anyone.”

He studies me in silence.

I know what he’s thinking.

When have I dated anyone?

“If you change your mind, let me know,” he says, a shred of amusement in his voice. “I owe you one,” he continues, and I flash a smile.

“You don’t owe me anything. We’re even. And even if I changed my mind, you’d be the last to know,” I joke, and we share a chuckle.

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