“I’m having dinner with my fiancée. Who has instructed me to not even flirt with her, let alone any other woman.”
Interesting that her fake fiancé had more integrity than some of the men she’d dated for real. “Flirting’s okay. It’d make everything look more believable, seeing as how the whole point of dinner is to sell this engagement as the real deal.”
“This is too good to be true. I don’t have to exercise any caution around topics that aren’t date-appropriate, and I get to flirt with a stunning woman? Who knew I’d hit the lottery twice in as many weeks?” Alex took her hand, brushing his thumb back and forth over the paper clip ring he’d given her.
Yes, it sent chills up the backs of her arms and legs.
No, Alex hadn’t crossed a single line.
Yes, he’d done precisely as she’d asked.
No. Noooo, Sydney had not anticipated the effect a flirty Alex would have on her. How could she? He’d snapped and scowled at her about three hundred percent more than smiled in their short time together.
Until last night, really. But last night’s helpful and warm Alex was a whole different level than flirty Alex.
How was she supposed to know that he’d transform into…into…this total package of male awesomeness? Or realize how susceptible she’d be to it?
Sydney propped her forearm just in front of the thick white china plate. To the rest of the room, it’d look like she was whispering sweet somethings to him. Luckily, thanks to the busy buzz of the room, even the closest two-top couldn’t overhear her say—for her own self-preservation, “As long as you don’t expect it to go anywhere.”
“Hey there!” The greeting from the town police chief startled Sydney. But Alex held tight to her hand to prevent her from yanking it away from him. “Keep it clean, lovebirds. I don’t want to have to book you on felony flirting.”
“Hi, Matt.” Alex looked ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re the first person I’ve accidentally run into. That I know. That I recognize. This is great. I’m putting down roots here.”
Matt nodded at Sydney with a smile, then angled back to Alex. “Glad you feel that way. Because I’ve got someone who wants to meet you. Our station dispatcher.”
“Why does she want to meet me?” Alex pursed his lips (so sexy) then clicked his tongue knowingly. “Is she a fan of Michael Fassbender and noticed my striking resemblance?”
Matt crooked his finger, and an older woman with tightly shorn salt-and-pepper curls practically bounded to the table. “Alex, this is Debbie, who keeps my life collated and organized. One of these days she’ll tell me what she puts in the station coffee to magically erase stress. She’s a miracle worker on many levels.”
“Debbie…Miss Debbie? From Maplethorpe Elementary?” Sydney asked slowly. Wow. A blast from the past that she hadn’t expected. And she was almost as thrilled as Alex at the spurt of recognition.
A brown hand fluttered up to her cheekbone, brushing the wide plastic hoops she always wore. Tonight’s were blue. With snowflakes painted on them. When Sydney had been nine, she’d thought the endless variety of hoops to be the height of sophistication. “Indeed. You were such an attentive student, Sydney. I do enjoy seeing how the finished product turns out, as it were. I’m so pleased that you remember me.”
“Of course I do. You were my third-grade teacher. You had us make papier-mâché replicas of the wonders of the world. I think that’s what gave me the travel bug.”
Her hand fluttered back down to pat Sydney’s shoulder, as if she were still a student. “Oh, that’s such a kind thing to say. No wonder your young man popped the question.”
“But you were a teacher. How on earth did you end up working for the police?”
“Have you been back in an elementary classroom since you grew up? It’s a damned battlefield. I find criminals much easier to deal with.”
Alex burst out laughing. “Do you have any kids of your own?”
“Goodness, no. It takes all my energy and then some to keep our police chief in line. But that’s just me.” Then her infectious smile turned sly. “I’ll bet you two will make beautiful babies.”
Omigod.
The embarrassment. The only bright side? If she actually was ‘with’ Alex, it’d be a hundred times worse.
“Miss Debbie.” Sydney let go of Alex and grabbed on to her beer like it was the last lifeboat bobbing by the Titanic. “We’re barely used to being engaged. Don’t rush things. Didn’t you used to