Page 26 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“You always wear that kind of underwear, Davis?” Why was his voice suddenly full of gravel?

“What kind of underwear?”

“The red, lacy kind of underwear.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yes. Yes, he would.

“It’s none of your business, Flint.”

That was true. “It’s just a surprise, is all,” he said, finally managing to think of something other than full breasts cupped in red lace so that he could actually unlock his truck. He moved to the driver’s sideand reached over his seat to grab the small duffel he kept in the back. Daphne opened the passenger door.

“It’s a surprise that I wear nice underwear?” She glared at him across the cab of the truck.

Calvin impressed himself by not letting his gaze drop to the fantastic view he could glimpse in his peripheral vision. “Well ...” He rifled through his bag to find his spare uniform shirt. “Yeah, Davis. It is. I didn’t peg you for a red lace lingerie kind of woman.”

“That’ll teach you to make assumptions. Now can we get out of here so I can go home and change?”

“Put this on,” he said, tossing her the shirt. “I’ll drive you home.”

She grumbled something that might have been gratitude, and Calvin got behind the wheel and kept his gaze firmly fastened out the windshield until Daphne had slid in beside him and buckled herself in. Then he glanced over and felt an odd sort of satisfaction at the sight of her wearing his clothes. In his defense, a good portion of his blood was currently occupied in places other than his brain.

He put the truck in gear and drove to Daphne’s house.

Chapter 10

The shirt smelled like him. Daphne tried to ignore it, but it was a soothing, masculine kind of scent that made her dizzy. She needed to get it off before she actually started thinking Calvin Flint was attractive. Between her checking out his butt and now wearing his clothes, they were getting far too intimate with each other. Next thing she knew, she’d be getting along with the man, which would be some kind of betrayal of teenage Daphne’s memory.

This was the guy who’d almost made her lose her scholarships. The guy who wouldn’t leave her alone, who made fun of her for caring about school. He’d made it his mission to annoy her for her entire senior year. So what if he smelled good? That didn’t make up for him being an irritating jerk.

Calvin parked outside Daphne’s apartment building and cut the engine. When he slid out of the truck at the same time she did, Daphne narrowed her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t abscond with my spare shirt.”

“I can promise you, I won’t abscond with anything of yours, Flint.”

“I’ve only got the two, and I’ve had enough women ‘borrow’ hoodies to be suspicious.”

Deep offense struck in the middle of Daphne’s gut. “You’re putting me on the same level as women who try to be cute and steal your clothes?”

“There’s nothing cute about it, Davis. Now you can either let me in so I can get my shirt, or we can stand here and argue about it.”

“You know what?” She huffed and started unbuttoning the top. “Here.”

“Wait. Hold on—”

“Abscond with this, Flint.” She pushed the top into his chest, not even caring that her breasts and stomach were being kissed by fresh, cool air. His hands came up to catch the shirt, brushing her fingers in the process. Little shivers danced across her skin at the contact, which was probably a sign that she needed to get out of the cold and warm herself up. The sides of her own shirt, which she’d left on unbuttoned underneath his, were fluttering in the cold February breeze. “I’ll see you back at the station. And stop staring at my chest, you perv.”

His eyes snapped up to her face. “I wasn’t staring at anything.”

Scoffing, Daphne spun toward her door and fumbled with her keys for a few moments. Why were her hands trembling? Why did she feel flushed and strange? It wasn’t because of the expression on Flint’s face when he was looking at her breasts. She was cold—that was all. It was chilly out, and she was hardly wearing anything.

The key finally slid home, and she unlocked the lobby door. Once she was safely inside, she heard Flint’s truck rumble to life, and Daphne let out a sigh of relief.

What a disaster.

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