Page 21 of Broken

Blue eyes twinkling, he smiles. “Judging by the giant picnic basket he has with him, I’d say he wants to bring you dinner.”

Definitely not Bryce.That familiar fluttering feeling swirls in my abdomen, but surely it isn’t Nathan. There’s nobody to see us here. Nobody to report ourdate.Well, except for Serge, whodoesn’t even know what social media is. And Cesar and Potato, but I already know from experience they’re entirely trustworthy—they know all my secrets and haven’t told a soul.

“Shall I let him in? It’s against protocol to have overnight guests, but I don’t see why he can’t stay for dinner.”

Too stunned to speak, I nod. Surely it can’t be him. But who else? Tyler’s still out of town, and nobody else knows I’m here. “Yes, please let him in.”

After Serge leaves, I go straight for the mirror and smooth down the flyaway strands of hair framing my face. I wasn’t expecting company tonight, and I’m wearing my comfy yoga pants and an old hoodie of Tyler’s, both of which are covered in fur, so I’m not exactly dressed for it either.

Potato woofs at my feet. “I know, little buddy. He’s going to take one look at me and wonder what the hell he’s marrying.”

“Actually, you look kind of cute.” Nathan’s deep voice fills the room, and my stomach flips. I turn to face him, and my heart almost stops. His strong jaw is covered in a thicker coating of stubble than usual, and he’s wearing gray sweats with a fitted white T-shirt. Hot damn.

Cesar lifts his head, gives Nathan a cursory glance, and resumes his former position, but Potato jumps up to sniff at the basket in Nathan’s hand.

Nathan scratches his reddish-brown head. “Don’t worry. I brought something for you too.” Oh, dear mother, he likes dogs. “Now, sit,” he commands, and my disobedient little buddy flops down onto his butt.

I blink at Nathan. “He barely ever listens to anyone.”

He shrugs. “Guess it’s all in the tone.”

He’s not wrong. I’m pretty sure I’d sit right now if he told me to. Probably even kneel. I banish such thoughts from my head and cast my eyes back to the large picnic basket hanging over his arm. “Did you bring me dinner?”

He sets the basket down on the table. “I brought us both dinner. And your furry pals here.”

Tears well in my eyes. “You brought Potato and Cesar dinner too?”

He nods. “And little extra treats for the others. I got dog and cat stuff, but I didn’t know what other animals you had here.”

I gape at him and try to stop myself from drooling. Surely this man is not actually real.

“Mel?” he says, and I realize I haven’t spoken for at least a minute.

“But… why? What happened to your Fourth of July plans?”

He arches an eyebrow. “She’s standing right here looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head.”

I blush bright pink. “It’s just… I wasn’t expecting you. This isn’t very public for a date.”

“It’s not a date. It’s dinner.” He winks at me, then opens the picnic basket and pulls out a small bottle of wine. He holds it up. “Alcohol-free because I assume you can’t drink on the job.”

I fold my arms over my chest and watch him. He assumes correctly.

“I didn’t bring glasses though.” He pulls out a clear plastic container that looks like it has chicken wings inside. My stomach growls.

“We only have coffee mugs if you don’t mind drinking from them.”

He nods, seemingly unfazed, and continues unpacking the basket. Potato sits at his feet now, patiently waiting for whatever delights Nathan has brought him. Even Cesar shuffles over, his nose in the air as he sniffs out his supper. I gawk at him. Nathan James, billionaire bachelor, spending his Fourth of July at an animal shelter with a corgi and a basset hound—and me. How is this even my life?

I lean backon the Formica chair and rub a hand over my stomach. Nathan’s picnic dinner was wonderful: chicken wings, potato skins, barbecue ribs, corn on the cob, and cheesecake. I couldn’t eat another bite if he paid me. “I am so full. That was all delicious.”

Potato woofs his agreement from where he sits next to me, and Cesar remains lying on top of Nathan’s feet. Suitably impressed with the gourmet filet mignon doggy treats, the basset hound has been glued to my husband-to-be for the past hour.

Nathan scratches the dog’s head and smiles. “Do you ever think about taking these guys home?”

“Cesar and Potato?” I shake my head. “No way.”

He frowns.

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