Page 79 of My Escort (A Different Kind of Escort)

It’s fucked up how things work out sometimes.

He pulls out the chair for me.

“Be careful, Brett. Your gentleman is showing.” I sit down.

A sneaky grin sneaks over his lips before he sits down across from me.

We eat and mainly talk about work. It’s safe and familiar.

His place is nice. Masculine. The furniture is dark, but the walls are painted stark white.

He wipes his mouth off with his napkin. “Sounds like you really like what you do.”

“Every part of it.” I beam with the truth. “You know”—I reach for my wineglass, leery about telling him—“they offered me to stay on here when the office opens.”

There’s a flicker in his eyes, allowing the usual clouds to slip back in. “Are you going to take it?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

He stands up and reaches for my plate.

“Oh, here.” I stand. “Let me help you.”

“No.” His hand comes up like some block defense in a football game. “I got it.” His eyes soften, and clear skies appear back in them. “You’re my guest. Sit back and enjoy your wine. I’ll take care of the mess.”

I lower back into the chair…guest.

I’m a guest?

Is that all I am to him?

A passerby?

Perhaps, he doesn’t want me to stay. Maybe he’s content knowing there’s an expiration date. Is that why he’s being so weird?

He finishes cleaning up and comes back to the table.

Now that he knows there’s a chance I might be staying, is he going to ask me to leave?

“More?” He lifts the wine bottle.

“No.” I wave a hand. “I have to drive home. I had two already.” There, I opened the door. He could slip out of it. Or better yet, leave it open for me to skedaddle out.

He pours the wine into my glass. “You’re safe.” He sets the bottle down.

“Why, are you driving me home?” I ask with a weak cautious laugh.

“No.” He looks down at me through hooded eyes. “You’re staying the night.”

I raise a brow. “I am?”

He puts his hand out to me. “Come, let’s go out on the balcony.”

I glance around. “There’s a balcony?”

“Yes. If you reach out and take my hand, I’ll show it to you.”

I slip my hand into his. I swear I’ll never get used to the feel of him touching me anywhere. Everything inside runs wild for more. I rise from the chair.

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