Number Neighbors - Emma Hart Page 0,24
have plans tomorrow night.”
She frowned. “Doing what? What are you doing?”
“With me,” I said quickly. “He has plans with me.”
Why did I say that? Why the hell did I say that? What was wrong with me?
Grandma looked as shocked as I felt. “What’s he doing with you?”
“Dinner,” Isaac said. “I helped her out with the kitten and she’s thanking me by buying me dinner.”
I was?
“Is it a date?” Grandma asked, looking between us. “Because I have a list of people who I think would be suitable for her and you’re not on it.”
“Grandma! How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t need you to play matchmaker for me!” I slammed my hand against the sofa. “Stop it!”
Isaac grinned lopsidedly. “It’s a date if she wants it to be. I wouldn’t say no.”
I blushed. I was not going to discuss this in front of my grandmother. She was a menace as it was—she didn’t need to have her nose any deeper into my business.
Seriously. If she got any deeper, she’d come out in the middle of the Chinese government building.
They could keep her, to be perfectly honest.
I’d live a few more years if they did.
“It’s not a date,” I said firmly. “Just me being a good person.”
Grandma snorted. “That’ll be the day.”
I glared at her as she stood and grabbed her oversized electric blue purse from the floor.
“Think about it,” she said to Isaac. “There’s a nice young woman at the art class. You’d like her.” Grandma winked and left without bothering to say goodbye to me.
As usual.
“Don’t listen to her,” I said the moment she left. “That nice young woman is probably at least fifty.”
Isaac laughed, putting his mug on the table. “I have no intentions of being a model for a pensioner’s nude art class. Or any art class.”
“Reassuring. The last thing I need is to go to my grandmother’s house for dinner and see a dreadfully drawn naked image of you hanging over the dining table.”
“Would she do that?”
“The woman reads BDSM fiction. What do you think?”
“Fair point.” He grinned. “So, about dinner tomorrow night.”
I groaned, getting up and collecting our empty mugs from the table. “Don’t. I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.”
“It’s your subconscious. You know you want to go out with me.”
“You’re super cocky today, do you know that?” I shot him a look over my shoulder and walked inside to the kitchen.
He followed me. “Come on. One dinner. That’s not going to kill you, is it?”
“I don’t know. Are you cooking?”
“It’s supposed to be your treat, remember?”
“Hey, I didn’t agree to that. You said it.” I put the mugs into the sink and turned around.
He was right in front of me—almost as close as he’d been last night right before he kissed me.
I swallowed, leaning back against the counter as far as I possibly could to put some distance between us. God only knew my heart was already beating a little faster than before just from him being so close.
“Have dinner with me. We don’t have to go out anywhere if you’re worried about being seen with me.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Have you met the people in this town? They’re all gossips. We’d be married by next week.”
“So we’ll eat in.”
“Why are you so determined to have dinner with me?”
He sighed and held out his hands. “I’m attracted to you, Hannah, I told you that. I have been for a long time. I’m asking you to have dinner with me, not suit up and take over New York City.”
I paused for dramatic effect. “I might be more excited about putting on a ninja outfit and taking over a city to be honest.”
“How about we do dinner first, then plot our takeover of various cities around the world?”
“I have always wanted to go to London. Can you show me around?”
He smirked. “No. I’ve never been to London.”
“But you’re British.”
“Well observed, love,” he said dryly. “You do know there’s more to England, and indeed the United Kingdom, than just London, don’t you?”
I blew out a long breath and waved my hand. “Of course I do!”
He looked at me as if he didn’t believe me at all. “Well? Dinner?”
“What kind of dinner are we talking? Homemade? Takeout?”
“Whichever you want.”
“Can you cook?”
“I hope so, or I’ve been surviving on thin air for the last twenty-eight years.”
“Funny,” I drawled. “Who’s in charge of the food?”
He pointed at me. “You. You owe me.”
“So much