Page 88 of The Wrong Date Deal

August gaped at her. “She said that to you?”

“She did indeed. Serious as you like, as if the whole thing were as normal as could be.”

“And he didn’t say anything? Didn’t explain or tell her to stop or leave?”

“Not a damn thing. So, I just had to sit there while she insulted my career, told me I needed not to live with a roommate, and performed an audit on my life to provide feedback on how to be worthy of her son.”

“For fuck’s sake. Why on earth would you evenwantto be worthy of someone like that?”

“Beats me.”

“For the record, you were already more than worthy of him. He didn’t deserve you.”

Piper smiled sweetly. “Thank you. I know that now. But, at the time, it was a lot.”

“I can imagine.”

“Eventually, she started prompting him to tell me all about himself—much of which I already knew from our messages, but she wanted to provide her own spin on it. Essentially, she thought he was God's gift to women and the Earth.” Piper narrowed her eyes slightly. “And then…”

“Oh, god. It gets worse?”

“She gets up as some young woman approaches, introduces her as his sister, and moves two tables over to pull the samething again on some poor, unwitting guy who was on a date with the sister!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“So, yeah, she then spent the time bouncing between the two tables…facilitatingher children’s dates.”

August stared at her, stunned. “Wow,” she breathed.

“Yep. Blocked him the minute I left the restaurant. Right after I told him that bringing his mother on dates was weird and that he would never find anyone if he kept doing that.”

Chapter Twenty

August shook her head, holding Piper close to her.

It turned out, dance lessons were a great idea if you liked the person you were on a date with. As a first date, she’d generally think it was something to avoid—a little too intimate for someone you’d only just met. But, with Piper, it was something else entirely.

Piper’s hands holding onto her, her own fingers gliding over the soft fabric of Piper’s dress, feeling the heat of her body radiating through it, the soft skin underneath teasing her and making her stomach drop every time she adjusted her grip. And even that was nothing compared to the dizzying sensation that jolted through her when Piper gripped her waist or squeezed her fingers a little tighter.

The whole thing made August feel like she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t miss it at all.

“I’m sorry about the terrible date and the guy with his weirdly intrusive mom,” August whispered into Piper’s ear. She felt the way Piper shuddered straight down into her core.

“That’s okay. I’ve come a long way since then.” Her voice was warm and sweet and soft in a way that almost made August forget where they were.

Piper pulled back and held her gaze, the moment intensifying, their movements slowing to a gentle sway. August’s eyes caught on the quick flick of tongue that danced across Piper’s lower lip, leaving it glossy and mesmerizing. Just the tiniest tip of Piper’s tongue, but August couldn’t get enough, the sight of it reaching somewhere deep inside of her and turning on a light she’d long thought extinguished.

Her breathing was shallow and far too ragged for the dance they were doing.

Piper’s hand slid slowly but deliberately up August’s arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, even under her long-sleeved shirt. She continued to hold August’s gaze when she reached the collar.

August’s lungs failed to expand properly as she felt Piper’s grip wrap around her collar, one warm, electric finger still extended. August’s eyes bounced desperately between Piper’s gaze and lips as the finger in question came down tantalizingly slowly to trace across her throat and under her shirt to tease along her collarbone.

“Piper,” she whispered, her voice filled with longing.

Piper’s gaze flicked up from where she’d been watching her own fingertip glide over August’s skin. “August,” she murmured back, a smile tugging at her perfect, red lips.

August wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that. There wasn’t anythingtosay—nothing that would make sense. Her mind was a fuzzy haze of wanting. Any noises she made would simply be that tangled mess made vocal.

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