The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,8

and in one piece.”

“Oooh. Wow, that is a good idea,” she said, something warm and pleased in her voice that had a peculiar effect on him. His forearms prickled and he tucked the cellphone beneath one ear, studying the gym complex more intently. Wondering if he might catch her wander out of the building to soak in the sunlight while they spoke. Wishing that she might.

“You can bring your daughter,” Blake offered. “Seems like she might enjoy that sort of thing too, right?”

Michelle chuckled. “She’d enjoy it, but not for the reasons that you expect.”

“Oh?”

“Mollie really wants to be a singer,” Michelle explained. “So I’m fairly certain the baseball diamond will become her personal performance area.”

“Even better,” Blake said. “I’ll make sure she gets the microphone at least once during the evening.”

Michelle gasped. “You’d really do that?”

The surprise in her voice warmed him for some reason. “Sure, why not? Gotta support the arts.”

“Well, you are certainly full of surprises,” Michelle said, and he couldn’t miss the note of appreciation in her voice. His fingers curled, and half of him wanted to implore her to step outside of the building so he could catch a glimpse of her willowy frame or that light brown hair he wanted to tug out of her perpetual ponytail. Just to see how far down it cascaded over her shoulders.

Instead, he said, “It’s tomorrow evening. How about I pick you up at five at your house?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said, her smile evident through the phone.

Blake was grinning by the time they hung up, and he kept watch out the window for a few more moments, still hopeful he might be able to catch a glimpse of her.

But it wasn’t meant to be. And that was for the best. Because this little infatuation that was blooming needed to be nipped in the bud. Blake was not meant for relationships. He was pretty sure no one in his family was, as evidenced by his parents’ multiple divorces. They were always happiest when they were single, and it had been an easy decision on his part to follow their lead. Why drag out a relationship that was only going to end in making him miserable?

It made much more sense to enjoy a more transient type of romance—a few dates, a lot of fun, and then a mutual parting with no hard feelings. So any soft feelings or admiration for Michelle needed to stay casual. The setup of the bet meant they’d be going on more dates than he was used to, but that didn’t mean his approach had to change from the norm.

Five dates weren’t a relationship, and it sure as hell wasn’t love. It would be fun, and then it would be over. That was how his life worked. It was how he operated.

And that’s how it would stay.

The next evening, Blake was driving his SUV to Michelle’s house, sans driver. She’d requested it specifically. He wasn’t sure why, but he was happy to oblige. He liked driving, even if it was generally more efficient to have someone else at the wheel.

His GPS occasionally blurted directions as he trekked across the city to Michelle’s house. He pulled up to a long row of townhouses on a hill. Hers was an eggshell white house with arched windows and a brick-lined walkway. It was quaint and oddly charming, even if it was much smaller than what he was used to.

But as he walked to the door, he realized that already the personality of this home was spilling out onto the sidewalk. Someone—presumably Michelle’s daughter, Mollie—had written a sign in kindergartner’s scrawl that said “I love my home.” The sidewalk leading up to the front door was adorned with pink chalk stars. Tiny fairy figurines dotted the dormant landscaping, a fact he noticed as he knocked on the front door.

The door swung open a moment later, a flushed and breathless Michelle greeting him.

“You’re just in time to watch me scour the house for my shoes!” she said, stepping aside as she gestured for him to come in. His gaze went to her feet—bare, impossibly cute, with pink polish on each toe. “Somebody was playing dress-up the other day and misplaced them,” Michelle went on, sending a stern look to the dark-haired girl who wandered into the hallway a moment later.

Big blue eyes, just like her mother’s, stared up at him, followed by a big grin.

“Tell Mr. Harrison hello,” Michelle urged quietly.

“Hello, Mr. Harrison, I’m Mollie. Did you