Page 42 of Flirting with the Scrooge

“Can’t have you knowing all my secrets.” He twirls me around before hauling me back into his chest.

I chuckle. “I guess not.”

Gently, we sway back and forth to the soothing sounds of a saxophone. There’s something oddly comforting about being this close to Connor. His hand drifts an inch down, his pinky brushing at the curve of my ass. A heat of electricity surges through me from the simple touch. I press myself closer to him, loving how his body molds perfectly to mine. He’s sweet and caring. He drives me mad one moment and makes me laugh the next. Right now, him holding me in his arms, there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Resting my head on his chest, I inhale a deep breath, the faint scent of his cedar and sandalwood cologne invades my senses. The steady thumping of his heartbeat under my cheek could almost lulls me to sleep. This is everything a perfect moment should be.

“I need to speak to you,” my mom whispers through gritted teeth, startling me from my thoughts. She grips my elbow a little harder than normal. “Now.”

I glance up at Connor. “Sorry. If you’ll excuse me.”

She drags me off to the side of the dance floor. My eyebrows pinch together as I rack my brain about what could have her so upset.

“Tatum Elizabeth. Explain yourself right this instant. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she seethes.

“Explain what?” I am absolutely dumbfounded about what the hell she’s talking about. Connor has done nothing wrong. He’s been a complete gentleman all evening. Unless Adam said something to her to get me back somehow.

“Yourdate.” She jerkily nods toward the dance floor.

“Connor?”

“I’m sure that’s not even his real name. Guys who do what he does wouldn’t give out their real name. Do you not understand how this is going to look for your father's career, on me, on this family?”

Now I’m completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone is talking. Everyone knows.”

“Knows what?” I raise my voice higher than normal because clearly everyone knows but me.

“You hired an escort as your date,” she whisper yells.

“Um. No. I didn’t.”

“Everyone is talking about how your date is your date.” She uses air quotes around the last two words. “Were you that desperate you hired someone to be your date? Please don’t tell me you’re paying for sex. That’s a scandal this family doesn’t need.”

“Oh my God. No. Why would everyone think I hired an escort—oh.” Then it dawns on me. When everyone asks Connor what he does for a living, we’ve been telling everyone for tonight, he’s only my date. Of course, they took that information and ran with it. It’s amazing how the gossip runs rampant around here. I guess everyone needs something to talk about, probably to keep the focus off whatever scandal they have going on in their own life. “No. Connor’s not an escort, and I’m not paying him for sex. He’s actually my neighbor.”

A wave of relief washes over her face. “Well, that’s… good. This would have never happened if you let me set you up with Dr. Berkshire’s son. Now, I need to go do damage control.” She side eyes me before slinking off into the crowd.

I exhale a huff. For the fact that she would believe rumors about her own daughter than trust she wouldn’t do something as absurd as hiring an escort is telling. When I turn around, Connor’s no longer on the dance floor because why would he be, I left him. Instead, I find him at a small table chatting with Ledger. I stroll over to him and link my arm with his. The contact startling him.

“So apparently everyone thinks I hired you to be my date.”

Ledger busts out laughing.

“Oh wait. It gets better. I’m also paying you for sex.” This time, none of us can contain our laughter.

“Son of a bitch,” Connor whines. “That was a missed opportunity.”

“I wasn’t going to pay you to be my date,” I deadpan.

“But you did bribe me with cookies. So, if cookies were the currency, that would mean you paid me to be your date.” A boyish grin fills Connor’s face. “These people aren’t wrong.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Still have more cookies? We can work out a deal for sex.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I unhook my arm and playfully backhand his bicep. “I hate you.”

“Hate sex. Even better.” Connor flashes me a bright, wide smile. A part of me wonders what he would look like without the beard.

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