Page 15 of Personal Escort

Toby opens the car door for me. “Are you coming?”

I nod and hurry after him. Okay, no more thinking about that tonight, because warm fuzzy feelings. But tomorrow, in the cold light of day, I’m going to tell Toby I still need a husband. Not a real one, of course. I don’t want his head to explode.

Just a temporary one.

The only solution is to resort to funny stuff, as Nana would say.

As soon as I get back to Elana’s, I’m Googling how to hire an escort.

CHAPTERSEVEN

TOBY

“NO.”

Cara rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat. We’re halfway to Toronto, but getting nowhere with this conversation. “You’re not giving the plan fair consideration.”

“Because it’s insane.”

“Whatever. You don’t even get a say.”

True enough. I’m just the guy who had his tongue down her throat yesterday. What do I know about her love life, anyway?

Nothing, and it’s going to stay that way.Damn it.

I slept like shit last night, replaying that kiss over and over again in my mind. Wishing I’d pulled her closer and pressed my erection into her belly. Wishing I’d dragged her back to my hotel suite instead of depositing her safely at her sister’s townhouse.

Luckily today was non-stop meetings until it was time to meet Cara at the airport, so my brain was forced to take breaks from inappropriate fantasies about teaching her just how good two people can be together.

Giving up on love at twenty-four. What the bloody hell is that?

Sure, I don’t really believe in love myself, but that’s because I’m jaded with good reason.

Maybe Cara is, too.

No. She’s too…lighthearted, too lovely.

Too innocent.

“You can’t hire an escort,” I grind out. “Aren’t you on a student visa in Canada? Don’t jeopardize that.”

“I’m not going to hire aprostitute.”

“Isn’t it the same thing? You don’t want to get busted for solicitation.”

She stares at me like I’m an idiot. Well at least this conversation has gone a long way toward restoring our relationship to its rightful place.

No kissing. Sibling-ish mocking. Huffing and sighing and…

Jesus, she’s gorgeous when she’s frustrated. Pink cheeks and bright eyes.

She takes a deep breath, then gives me a level look. “Okay, let me start again from the beginning, because I think you may have missed the point of the plan.”

I missed nothing. I just don’t approve of her hiring some asshole to pretend to marry her, so she can tell her grandmother she eloped and ta-da, now she’s married, stop worrying, Nana.

I wave for the flight attendant. If Cara’s going to blithely carry on like our kiss meant nothing, I need a drink.

She’s right to do so, of course. It was momentary madness.

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