Page 31 of Faking It With the Grumpy Single Dad

He forces his gaze onto Joe. “Nice tie. Is that from JC Penney’s clearance rack?”

“Percy!” I snap.

Joe simply snorts, unbothered by the comment.

Percy shrugs, feigning innocence. “It was only a question, Poppy.”

“Classism is tacky. Cut it out.”

“As you wish, beautiful.”

Joe is tense in his seat beside me, his muscles tight as a spring. It’s like he’s ready to pounce across the table and take Percy down at any second.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Thankfully, our waiter arrives a moment later. Percy orders a bottle of white for the table, then takes the liberty of ordering appetizers without asking for mine or Joe’s opinion. Which is fine, really. I’m not here for the food.

Joe’s arm is draped casually across the back of my chair. Percy’s gaze keeps flicking toward it.

“You have to tell me everything,” Percy says to me. “How did you two fall for each other?”

To my surprise, Joe is the one who answers.

“I took one look at her and knew there was something special about her. She’s one of a kind.”

Percy’s eyes flash with annoyance. “And do you often cross professional boundaries with your clientele, Joseph?”

“You’re one to talk about boundaries,” I mutter.

He tuts his tongue at me. “Let’s not fight in public, gorgeous.”

Joe scoffs. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop flirting with my girl.”

“Well, Joseph, you must understand that Poppy and I have a very long history together. And do you not agree that she is gorgeous? How could I possibly be expected to hold myself back from commenting on it?”

I roll my eyes. “Stop being ridiculous.”

Percy merely winks at me.

Joe’s fingertips idly stroke the bare skin of my shoulder. Percy’s gaze hones in on the movement.

“You said you’re an architect, Joseph,” Percy says. “You must have a fairly impressive house of your own.”

Showing indifference, Joe merely shrugs and leans closer to me, subtly inhaling the scent of my perfume. Goosebumps erupt on my skin.

He’s really good at this.

“I don’t need a fancy house to be content with my life,” he remarks.

“And, you know, there’s very little to be found about you on the internet,” Percy continues.

“Seriously? You googled him?”

Percy holds his hands up in surrender, ignoring the waiter as he delivers plates with tuna tartar, lobster dumplings, and calamari.

“I have to be certain that my Poppy is in good hands, don’t I?”

Does sesame-Tajin aioli stain? Because I’d love to dump this raw fish over his head right now.

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