Page 30 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

A long sigh slipped through Calvin’s lips, and he kneaded the bottom of the steering wheel to try to let out some nervous energy. “See, that’s the thing. There is no date.”

“What do you mean? You told me you had a long line of women waiting for the chance to go to your mom’s event with you.”

He cringed. “That ... might not have been strictly true.”

“So take Jenna.”

“We’ve covered this. She’s not my type.”

“I don’t get why you’re telling me all this.”

“Well, when my mom accused me of cheating on my nonexistent date, I might have suggested that there was no cheating involved, because my date was actually ...” He trailed off and glanced over at her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. Gravel rattled in his throat as he tried to clear the blockage.

“Your date was actually . . . ?”

Might as well come out with it. “You,” Calvin said. “I told her my date was actually you.”

Daphne blinked. Blinked again. Calvin could practically hear the gears grinding in her brain as the reality of his words was processed. Then her face was a rictus of horror, and she reared back so far her head hit the passenger window.

“Careful,” he hissed, reaching for her.

She batted his hand away. “You saidwhat?”

“It’s just one event, and I would owe you,” he rushed to say. “It’s really low key; she’s hosting it at her house. Just a little casual gathering, really. And look, I know it’s not ideal, but—”

“Absolutely freakingnot, Flint. How could you possibly tell her that? Call her right now and tell her you lied and you’ll take Jenna. Get your phone.”

“I’m not taking Jenna.”

“Why not?”

“If I take her to the vow renewal, my mother will push her on me even more aggressively, and it’ll be a nightmare to get her to back off. You saw how she was when she came to the station. Besides, I’m not into her!”

“You’re not intome!”

Calvin paused. “Regardless,” he started, and Daphne held up her hand.

“No.”

“It’s one evening, Davis. You want money? I’ll pay you.”

“There isn’t enough money in the world for me to attend your mother’s vow renewal on your arm, Flint.” Daphne crossed her own arms and stared out the windshield. Her pose drew his attention to her breasts again, and he really needed to stop looking at her like that, but had she put something sparkly on her cleavage too? Why did her skin look so damn kissable?

What waswrongwith him?

Calvin tore his gaze away. “What did you think of Jerry Barela?” he asked when the tension in the truck got too much.

Daphne glared at him. “You’re asking me that now?”

“Well, every time I went to your office to debrief, the door was locked or you were out.”

“That was by design, numbnuts.”

“So you’re avoiding me?”

“Of course I’m avoiding you.”

“Because you ripped your own shirt?”

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