Page 74 of The Dating Contract

“Mmmhm.” He laughed. “I thought of you when I saw the Greenblatts box.”

She snorted. “So many Greenblatts in my life, I cannot get away from them.” And then she looked up into those eyes of his. “They were my comfort food.”

“Now you know the inside scoop?” He paused, and she knew whatever he was going to say would be funny. “Or whatever you call the behind the scenes in knish world.”

The laugh arrived out of nowhere even though she expected humor. The force of giddy joy exiting her mouth sent her forehead to his shoulder. “I don’t know why it was so funny,” she said once she’d calmed down enough to lift her head and look up into his eyes.

“The delivery,” he replied. “Dry as old parchment.”

“Probably.” She paused and took a chance, following a random thread of conversation in her head, an idea she hadn’t expected to want. “Do you want to get out of here or…?”

Of course, she’d known the second she got the question out of her mouth that for him, leaving wasn’t going to be an option. This was professional networking as well as personal friend circle, and Pictionary was the highlight of the evening, it seemed, a long-standing tradition he’d clearly never been invited to.

Except it said something about her that she needed to ask him to leave, creating if not acknowledging yet another of the tangled, tied threads pulling on her and toward him.

To his credit, he didn’t say no immediately; the fact that the power of her request was enough to consider it for even a second meant more to her than she could articulate.

Because, quite simply, she couldn’t offer the same to him. When her work called, she couldn’t say no. There were people depending on her to fix the problem that had come up when she got the call. People’s livelihoods were on the line when she got the call. And she always needed to answer.

“I need to play,” he finally said, his response both inevitable and predictable. But the strain in his eyes was not.

Did he think she was uncomfortable? Did he think she wasn’t enjoying herself as much as she’d said?

“I know…” he began, the words slowly emerging from his lips. “I know you’re making plans to play too? Are you?”

She nodded. “I am,” she said. “A team with Sarah and Jamie—we’ll see how that goes. I don’t think any of us can draw.”

He laughed. “I think that’s the fun of this, maybe?”

She nodded.

“Maybe we can go after the game?”

“Sounds good,” she replied. Even though he held her, then took her hand as they headed to the area where the game was set up, there was something in the back of her mind that worried her.

Things couldn’t be this good, could they?

She wasn’t sure, but she figured the best thing she could do was to follow along and enjoy it.

*

Samuel was beyondthrilled. He was sitting with his mentor, professional contacts and friends. He had a seat at the legendary Pictionary game, something he’d hoped for a long time he’d get to do.

And to add icing on the cake, Leah was sitting across the way from him, sending him grins and having a grand old time of her own.

The only thing was that he wished she was closer, on his team, going back and forth with him, guessing together.

But she’d already been claimed before he sat down, which meant he was sitting between Oliver and Liam.

If he’d been asked six months before if there had been anything that he’d wanted more than sitting next to Liam and Oliver at a Pictionary game, he say there’d be nothing.

Okay. Even then, in the back of his mind, in his wildest dreams, he never would have thought this scenario was possible.

And yet, now, here he was, living it.

He gazed across the room at Leah, meeting her gorgeous blue eyes with his own, watching as the grin on her face came to life, the wink following it, making promises he was excited to keep.

“You have a good one,” Liam said with a smile.

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