Page 92 of David's Proposal

“I overheard Thea telling Rain that you were here.”

A smile touches my lips.

“You can’t be here. This is crazy.”

Of all the traits I expected to see in him, impulsiveness has never been one of them.

That impression that he is always in control, never risking anything, begins to be tarnished by the unexpected shifts in his behavior.

“I want to see the twins,” he says.

“Yeah. That’s not going to work. You don’t even want to see the woman you have brought with you tonight.”

He bites his lip, pondering, a smile hidden in his eyes.

“You’re up to something,” I say, hoarse from all that whispering. “But nothing can happen here. We shouldn’t even talk,” I say. “Go back.”

I press my hand against his chest, hoping to make him move. None of that happens as he takes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and places a kiss on the back of my knuckles.

“David?” I gasp as he takes me by surprise, mixed feelings swirling in my chest.

The last thing I want right now is to get caught here with him.

I can only imagine the gossip circulating around town.

Elizabeth Fox is David Moore’s side piece.

It doesn’t matter that I’m his main piece.

That’s how it looks.

And we all know what David Moore does to his women––other than having fun with them, of course.

And yet, he is stern in his conviction, not letting go of my hand.

“Are you going home from here?” he asks.

“I don’t know. My mother’s driving me home. Probably. I need to get some sleep before tomorrow. I’m the flower girl, remember?”

Holding my hand, he looks down.

“How could I forget? You look amazing, by the way,” he adds in a cold, cynical tone.

“What’s with you?” I say, my voice getting raspy from speaking quietly.

He holds my gaze for too long, and my body reacts with warmth, tingles, and tension between my legs.

“You know what? I can’t talk to you right now. I’m supposed to watch the twins. I’m sure they have baby monitors in the room and could hear us. I’m leaving now. Okay? Bye.”

I slide my hand out of his lock.

It’s not like me to be abrupt like this, but I have no choice.

Peeling my eyes away from him, I walk back into the twins’ room, reclaim my seat, and listen attentively, hoping to catch the sound of his steps moving away.

Somehow, this doesn’t feel right.

I did the right thing, though, pushing him away, yet it doesn’t feel right, but I don’t move.

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