Page 29 of The Bartender's Baby

I didn’t know how or why, but yeah.

He snickered, pulling me into him, my back to his front again. I fit perfectly underneath his chin. Nate and Matt exchanged some questions and answers about the car, but once again, I’d been rendered mute. Pretending to be husband and wife with a baby on the way, it was a game. But the way he held me didn’t feel fake. It felt very real.

Like I belonged at his side, his palm against mine, talking about everyday things like gas mileage.

By the time Nate brought me back to reality with a push to sit in the driver’s seat, Matt had retrieved the keys. The three of us took it for a short spin, and I liked it. It had been a while since I’d driven a car because I’d been riding my bike everywhere, but I didn’t have much issue, save for getting used to the height difference.

“I can see everything up here,” I mused, and Nate reached his hand over, squeezing my thigh with a pleased smile.

“You look good, sweetie pie.”

From the back seat, Matt pointed out different buttons on the dash, though I didn’t pay much mind, attempting to ignore the five-finger imprint Nate had left on my leg.

As I pulled back into the lot, Matt asked how I liked it, and I told him I thought it was great. But before we could go on, so I could get into the budget, Nate pointed at a blue van. “Ooh, honey cakes. We gotta take that beauty out for a drive.”

I frowned at him. “I don’t want…”

He gave me an almost imperceptible shake of his head before turning to Matt. “Prince Charming had a few different ladies try on the glass slipper before it finally fit, right?”

“Right.” Matt chuckled. “Bet you’ll love this one.”

As Matt preceded us to the van, I poked Nate’s side. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You can’t take the first offer. If he knows you don’t need any convincing, we won’t have any wiggle room on the price. I know what I’m doing, hm?”

I heaved a sigh and let the two of them chat about the minivan with three rows of seats and in-floor storage as I attempted to stay warm. While Matt skedaddled back to the office for the key so we could test-drive it, Nate held my cold hands between his, blowing on them, rubbing the backs as if starting a fire. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m cold. It’s windier than I thought it was going to be.”

He nodded and folded me up, rotating us so he blocked all the wind.

Damn chivalry.

“We’re almost done. I’ll take you out for lunch.”

“You don’t?—”

“I’m hungry for a burrito. You can get a veggie one. What do you think?”

Seeing as how he remembered I wasn’t currently eating meat, and he kept me so warm, I couldn’t deny him. “You know, you’re very good at this.”

“At what?”

At all of it. Being my friend. Being there for me. Being my pretend husband and baby daddy. But I didn’t tell him any of that. Saved by Matt. “Okay, who wants to take the wheel this time?”

Nate snatched the key faster than a dog stealing a treat. “Called it!”

I snorted and hopped into the passenger seat, enjoying the heat from all the vents he pointed at me. This time, I was allowed to watch him drive, his fingers curved around the wheel, arms relaxed, smiling as he spoke to Matt in the rearview mirror. So at ease with himself and with our game, it was easy to believe it.

To want it to be real.

“You look good,” I murmured to him, earning a gigantic grin.

Matt agreed. “This is a realdadvehicle right here. Imagine how good you’ll look pulling up to soccer practice in this.”

---