Page 69 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

Silence stretches on the other end of the line. “Are you still there?” I ask.

“Yup. Just waiting until you cave and give me more than that.”

I leave the dough to wash off my hands before adjusting the phone next to my ear.

“The kiss was electric. That’s not the problem.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Lila reminds me. “There’s nothing wrong with taking it day by day to see where it leads.”

I lean against the counter. “He just asked me to have dinner with him, and I said yes.”

“Fallon, that’s great,” Lila exclaims. “Just warn him that if he dares to hurt you again, I’m flying out there to kick his ass.”

“At least that would be highly entertaining. Although there’s no way Brooks is letting you get that close to another man.”

“Good point. He doesn’t even like when I hug his brother,” she complains.

My mind drifts to how possessive Harrison was last night before the game. Initially, I was furious at his attempt to tell me what to do, but I can’t deny that there was something undeniably sexy about the way he reacted to me wearing another man’s jersey. It proves that he cares, making me all the more conflicted.

I hear more barking in the background. “Winston is chasing another squirrel, so better go, but keep me updated, okay?”

“Will do.”

I set my phone on the counter and look over at Cat, who’s lounging on his bed in the corner.

“Harrison and I are having dinner, so you know what that means? You’re spending another night in my bathroom because I’m not letting you make an already precarious situation worse. Don’t worry, I’ll make you some salmon delight. Your favorite.”

As I finish pouring the wine, I hear the front door open. I found a bottle of Dom Pérignon at the store and couldn’t resist picking it up as an ode to the night Harrison and I met. I take a final glance at the spread I’ve prepared—seared duck with pomegranate glaze, Brussel sprouts, and a grilled pear and blue cheese salad. Heat rises to my cheeks as I take in the lavish spread, realizing I might have gone overboard. I don’t want Harrison to misinterpret my efforts. It doesn’t mean anything… at least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.

The sound of Harrison’s footsteps coming toward the dining room has me yanking off my apron and shoving it into the cabinet in the corner. I turn around just in time to see him walk into the room. He looks irresistibly charming in charcoal-gray slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a cobalt-blue tie. His hair is tousled, like he’s run his hands through it all day, and he shoots me a smile.

That’s new. I like it.

“Something smells delicious,” he says, glancing at the food. “These are for you.”

He comes to stand next to me with a vase of white tulips and a six-pack of Diet Coke.

He bought me flowers and my favorite drink?

“Thank you. What’s the occasion?” I take the vase with shaky hands and set it in the middle of the table.

Harrison’s fingers twitch at his side, his eyes darting around the room. “Dylan’s fiancée, Marlow, is a famous artist, and flowers are kind of her thing. She once told me that white tulips symbolize forgiveness and peace, so I figured they’d be a good icebreaker for tonight.”

“They’re beautiful. Why the soda?”

“Because it’s your favorite, and I noticed you were running low this morning when I grabbed a water from the fridge.”

His thoughtful gestures catch me off guard. I’m more accustomed to practical jokes and indifference from him than acts of appreciation or kindness.

“Let’s eat before everything gets cold,” I suggest.

Harrison nods. “Good idea. You really outdid yourself tonight.”

“No more than usual,” I shrug, not wanting to admit I spent an extra two hours to make it perfect.

When I move to sit, he unexpectedly pulls my chair out, making me look at him with a raised brow. “Thank you, but since when are you a gentleman?” I tease.

He takes the seat next to me. “Never claimed to be one. Just trying to be on my best behavior.”

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