Page 66 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Checking the swelling on your ankle.”

“Okay, Doctor,” she teased, then closed her eyes as his warm hands slid over the joint. He slipped her sock off and ran a thumb up the arch of her foot. A groan worked itself up her throat before she could stop it.

“How’s my bedside manner today?” he asked, voice a touch rougher than it had been a minute earlier.

She threw an arm over her face to stop herself from looking at him. If she saw anything close to the expression he’d worn earlier, when she’d whipped her shirt off in front of him, all bets would be off. “It’s getting better,” she admitted.

He huffed, hands gently stroking over her ankle. There was a long silence before he said, “Your family’s nice.”

“They’re lunatics.”

“They underestimate you.”

Daphne dropped her arm and looked at him. Flint kept his gaze on her ankle, his hands sweeping down the top of her foot in steady strokes. It felt like heaven, but his words rang like a gong in her head. “What do you mean?”

He shot her a look she couldn’t decipher. “They seemed pretty happy to see you as a mousy accountant who belonged in a library.”

“Maybe that’s what I am.”

“Bullshit, Davis.”

Daphne huffed. “And what, you know me so much better?”

“I know that you’re brave and smart and complicated,” he shot back.

“I feel like that’s supposed to be a compliment, but it didn’t sound like one.”

He tilted his head as if to concede the point. “I just think you’ve shown yourself to be pretty competent in a lot of areas since you’ve started working for the department. I’m not sure they realize just how much you’re capable of.”

Daphne rubbed her hand over her chest, right over a spot that ached like an old bruise. “I’ve always been the black sheep,” she admitted.

His thumb stroked around her anklebone. “Oh?”

“Once my sister came along, she sucked up all the attention and the light and the life in the room. I guess instead of fighting against it, I just decided to accept that I was the quiet one. They’re not wrong about me being a mousy accountant who belongs in a library.”

“You’re far from mousy, Daphne,” he said, hazel eyes flashing to hers. He blinked, his gaze returning to her ankle. His touch was gentle but firm, teasing the edges of her injury while stroking all the sensitive parts of her foot. It was intimate in a way Daphne didn’t quite know how to handle, but she didn’t want it to stop.

Heat curled low in Daphne’s gut. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“I just ... Ilikebeing on my own, working quietly, doing things that other people think are boring. That’s who I am. It’s the reason my ex-fiancé broke it off.”

“Because you were too smart for him?” Flint’s brows scrunched as if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“No,” Daphne said, jerking as his fingertips tickled the base of her foot. A dart of pain went through her ankle at the movement, and sheused it to clear her head. “No. Because I was the safe option, and he got bored of me.”

The furrowed brow didn’t go away. Flint stared at her. “The man got bored? Ofyou?”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne let out a scoff. “Come on, Flint. I’m an accountant.”

“So?”

“So, by definition, I’m freaking boring!”

“I stay awake at night wondering what mess you’re going to get yourself in when I have my back turned, Davis. You’re not boring. A woman who wakes up and decides to wear red lace lingerie on a weekday morning is not a boring woman.”

The heat that had sparked in Daphne’s gut moved lower. “Well,” she said, and then her words died. Her throat was tight when she said, “When he broke it off with me, my ex told me it was because I wasn’t spontaneous enough. I didn’t take enough risks. He felt like he was settling for me.”

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