Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,31
than my initial plan to find out what he was up to?
Because I wanted to touch him, kiss him, have him inside me. I wanted to repeat the experience that had left me panting his name.
As if sensing my thoughts, Chase’s gaze brushed my mouth. My lips tingled from the memory of his heated kisses.
My heart fluttered and my heart rate spiked up.
I had to change the topic before I did something stupid and he noticed just how much he had gotten under my skin.
“Is that why you wanted me to wear the red dress?” I asked quietly, turning my attention to my glass.
“No, I was actually pining for the blue one you’re wearing.” His words surprised me and I looked up again. He took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What?”
“I knew you’d choose the blue one if I so much as mentioned the red one. Plus, it’s my favorite color.” He winked at me. “It’s been ever since I saw you in your little nightshirt.”
He always knew what to say—that ability had been my downfall.
My throat choked up. The nervous bundle inside my stomach was back with a vengeance. My skin burned.
Back at the hotel, I’d had a sip or two of alcohol. Now I felt as though I needed an entire bottle. It was the effect Chase had on me. He made me nervous, more so after what had happened between us. The fact that he was sitting so close to me made it all even worse.
Meeting with him was a mistake.
Just looking at him in his blue jeans and white shirt was painful.
He was too beautiful a reminder of what I couldn’t have.
“Why couldn’t you give your explanation at the hotel?” I asked.
Where I felt safe; where I could have walked away easily.
“Because this is my treat,” he replied. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”
I sighed. “I don’t want a treat, Chase. I want an explanation. It’s the only reason I agreed to this.”
“And you’ll get one.”
So he kept saying.
“When?” I asked.
He gestured at my glass, and I took another sip. “Can we have lunch first? You look like you haven’t eaten yet.”
He was right.
“Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “Because you’re my wife?”
“Fake wife,” I corrected, adding softly, “The target of your deception, in case you’ve forgotten.”
He wet his lips, his blue eyes darkening as he glanced down at his glass, the dark liquid swirling, reflecting the changing lights above.
I don’t know what I expected, but disappointment washed over me. Somehow, I thought he’d tell me that I was wrong, but he didn’t say anything. Worse yet, the way he avoided my gaze told me that I was more than right.
“So you don’t deny it?” I asked.
“Please, Laurie, not now,” he said softly. “Can we have lunch first and then talk?”
I bit on my lower lip, considering whether to push him. With my stomach growling, and still feeling tired and weak, I wasn’t even sure I had the strength to discuss Chase’s intentions. I had no clue what his plans were or where they would leave me. I had no idea if my instinct to run stood a chance against my feelings for him, and that scared me. I didn’t want to go to that one place, where I became a blindly trusting idiot.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my fingers playing with the glass.
“You’ll see soon enough.” He cast me a strange glance. “What? Are you bored already? Or don’t you trust me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You understand this is no date?”
“Yes, I heard you loud and clear,” he said and placed his empty glass back on the bar. “It just isn’t the ideal place for it, that’s all.”
“Yeah?” I frowned. “And what’s the place you envisioned?”
“One that serves seafood.”
“Seafood?” I let out a brief laugh, surprised by his answer.
“If life gives you crap, then the only cure is crab.”
He laughed and leaned back. “I was kidding.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“I thought it was.” His lips twitched. “You’re not allergic to seafood, are you?” He leaned closer and draped his arm around my shoulders, not waiting for my answer. “No, you aren’t. See, that’s the beauty of our relationship. I know everything about you thanks to your very detailed info leaflet you sent me.”
I pushed his arm away. “First, we don’t have a relationship, Chase.”
“That’s right. We’re married. There’s a difference.”
“No…yes. Call it whatever you want, it’s over. Not to mention, it was fake,” I said