Page 36 of Santa’s Little Faker
And our walk to the restaurant was long enough since we parked a couple blocks away that there was a good chance someone from the neighborhood would see us at the very least. I was betting his family would get a call before we finished dinner, but I might’ve been underestimating that timeline.
“You’re holding my hand like I’m in kindergarten.” Orlando’s rolled eyes said he thought I was stupid or fucking with him.
I was neither…I was, however, confused.
“I’m going to piss you off but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yeah, that didn’t help the situation any. “I’m not treating you like…like you’re little.”
Dropping my voice lower at the end, I did my best to make sure no one else on the street could hear my response.
Orlando didn’t seem to be worried about that, but he’d never had to hide kinks from his nosy-as-fuck family before. “It’s notlittle stuff. It’s worse. It’s like you’re my grandmother and you’re walking me to church.”
He was insane.
But was he wrong?
As I thought about what he said, he sighed again. “I need romance.”
A giggle coming from behind us said we were getting more attention than we needed for a variety of reasons, so I huffed and pulled him to the side where we could have more privacy against the building just down from the restaurant.
It got another dramatic sound from the brat, but he didn’t argue with me. “Still not romantic.”
Our audience thought he was hilarious and my glare seemed to egg them on too. “Brat.”
For some reasoneveryoneseemed to think that was romantic judging by the sighs we got as the women who’d been behind us finally passed. Orlando was back to grinning and was thoroughly delighted with my manhandling or their reactions. “That’s much better. Thank you.”
Shaking my head, I did my best to keep up the stern glare. “No. You are not thanking me for this.”
“Why?” Head cocking, his frown seemed genuine. “It’s much nicer and you’re not looking at me like I’m your grandma anymore.”
I hadnotbeen thinking grandmotherly thoughts in his direction.
Not even grandfatherly thoughts.
“I was being polite.” Or at the very least I’d been a gentleman. Something nice. “You need to explain this to me better.”
“Just because or so you can pretend to date me better?” His question was cheeky but might’ve been genuine…it was hard to tell that time. Somewhere along the line he’d gotten better at being sneaky. “You need to remember that you can safeword.”
I still couldn’t decide if he was fucking with me or not.
Had I been walking with him like he was a relative?
Maybe.
Thinking about it, I tried to stop the immediate need to push back at what he was saying. Even if he was fucking with me, he might’ve had a point. “I’m not sure what I was doing that was technically wrong, but it’s possible I was being too careful.”
Maybe.
“Would you have done something different if this was a date with someone you’d met online or at the store?” Watching me closely, Orlando wasn’t frowning that time but he was more reserved than he had been just seconds before. “Is it me?”
Oh, that didn’t sound right and red flags were flying every which direction.
“I’ve known you for a very long time.” Was that a bad way to start? His expression hadn’t changed, so I couldn’t tell. “If you’re asking if this is weird for me and that’s why it feels wrong to you, no.”
At least, I didn’t think so.
This was Orlando.
“I don’t have any negative feelings about going out with you or having our time yesterday.” Judging by the way his shouldersrelaxed and his blank expression softened, he seemed to believe me about that. “If I was thinking anything you might see as negative, it’s because your family is insane and I don’t know what I’m going to say to your mother yet.”
