Page 89 of Crazy In Love
“Yeah, that makesmethe bad guy,” he growls low on his breath. “How horrible of me not to be a fluent bullshit artist.” He leans closer, snarling, “Alana and Tommy actuallydohave plans. So I wanna come over and?—”
“Bang? Really? I have it on good authority Clifford Troopman intends to ask me out soon.” I glance down and study my nails. “Could you not eventryto romance me? Is chivalry dead?”
“Come over and pick you up,” he continues, seething. “I was going to ask you over for dinner.”
“Oh?” I bring my eyes up again. “Dinner?”
“A date. At my house. I planned to cook for you, since we haven’t done that yet. But if you’d prefer to keep your schedule open for Cliff, then I suppose I’ll just back the fuck up and not bother.”
“You wanted to cook for me?”Good Lord. Why does my heart cartwheel?“Really?”
“Not if you have plans with Troopman. I’d hate to get in the way of true love and all that shit.”
I roll my eyes. “You get so freakin’ cranky. Geez. You were at that dinner with Alana. The Cliff joke is funny.”
His eyes flicker with something akin to desperation. Or perhaps, desire. For violence, that is. “It’s not funny to me. Can I pick you up? Leave your car here and not in my driveway. I’ll bring you back later, and no one will know we even hung out.”
“Dinner hidden away at your house. Where no one will see us.”Don’t even think about being weird about it, doofus!This is the deal we made. “That makes sense. It would be impossible for me to park in your driveway and not expect Alana to notice.”
“And thelastthing we want is for Alana to notice.” He softens hisexpression, curling his lips into a gentle smile. “You close the shop at five. Can I pick you up at six? It feels like we’ve hardly hung out this week.”
“We haven’t.” I snag the pen—my inferior imposter pen—and rest the capped end between my teeth. “You’ve been at the gym a lot. And I’ve been with Alana and the kids. Party planning is taking up a lot of time.”
“But I’ve been in your bed most nights.” He licks his lips and studies my eyes. “I’ve made sure to stop by almost every single day.”
“Drive by pussy.” I lower the pen and try not to feel quite so…cheap. “Your hard work is appreciated, and your dedication is admirable.”
He smirks. “Six o’clock? I’ve got Cliff running my classes tonight, so I’m free from now until tomorrow morning.”
I narrow my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t roster that poor man on just to make him unavailable for our date.”
“Shouldn’t matter to you.” He takes a step back, his voice low and his fingers tightly wrapped around a cookie. “You have no reason to be thinking about him or the things he does at night, Ms. Tatum. Your schedule is full, and I seem to recall you mentioning—demanding, even—that for as long as you’re in town, my focus remains exclusively yours.” He takes a bite and grins. “Tit for tat, Fox. Tit for tat. Wear your hair up.”
I reach back and touch my hair, the long locks hanging loose and the ends dangling over my shoulder. “That’s an interesting request.”
“Catch you when I catch you.” He meanders past the sofa square of old women trying desperately to listen to a conversation they weren’t invited into. But when he tips his chin in farewell, they scramble. A henhouse filled with nine chickens and one hungry fox. Whipping unread books open and sipping empty cups of tea, they fix their hair and pretend they’re not nosy old bitches begging for a scrap of gossip.
Imagine being so bored and brainless.
Kill me if I ever become like them.
ROUND TWENTY-FOUR
CHRIS
She was joking when she requested romance. But hell, if I don’t intend to deliver.
“I’m not saying no to hair pulling, and I don’t mind neck-breaking maneuvers. I’m just asking you to warn me before you try a new direction. I’m nearly thirty years old, Christian. I’m getting on in age, and strapping an ice-pack to my back to sleep, while practical, is hardly sexy.”
“Just shut up already.” I lead her through my front door, one hand pressed over her eyes to keep her blind, my arm draped across her back so she feels secure in the dark. And because I know Tommy took Alana and the kids out—his gift to me—I walk her all the way through my kitchen, the rich scent of dinner making her nose twitch, then outside again to the back porch.
Here’s hoping this is a date night she’ll always remember.
Maybe we’ll get longer than our six weeks. And fuck, maybe we won’t. But whatever happens, I intend to make sure she remembers me forthis. For the happiness we can feel and the romance I could provide, if only she wanted to give me a chance.
Not for beingneurotic, uptight, and a little rough in the bedroom.
Nerves kick against my heart, a whiplash that almost leaves me breathless. But fairy lights hang from the ceiling, more lights than all the Plainview shops stocked,combined, so I drove to the next town over and bought theirs, too. The lake creates a backdrop of beauty, a canvas I know she enjoys—dammit, I know she stares when she thinks no one else is looking—and I… well, I’ll try my best not to be neurotic and uptight and weird tonight.
