The Broody Brit for Christmas (Holiday Springs #1) - M.J. Fields Page 0,29
what?” she stutters.
“Ask. Me: Why. Not. You.”
“Fine.” She straightens her back. “Why not me?”
“Because you’re not a nice person. In fact, you’re a bit of a bitch. If I ever hear you talking badly about Nikki again to me or anyone else in town, I will ban you from this bar and the other establishment that I own. And, Nellie?” Her face is aghast as I whisper in her ear, “I’m about to own a lot more of them—right here.”
I don’t wait for her to find venomous words to spew back at me; instead, I walk out the front door of my bar and look for Nikki.
When I see her, she shakes her head and raises one hand in a small wave.
She’s dressed in a short, tailored camel coat with a wide turned down collar that is belted at her waist. It’s classy and accentuates her curves. But it’s the tight jeans with thigh-high boots that have me adjusting myself. Jesus.
Her soft auburn waves fall past her shoulders. Her snow-white complexion carries very little makeup, enhancing her natural beauty, but by no means does she need even a swipe of that mascara she has on to enrich her round green eyes. Her lashes are about a mile long without any.
“You look stunning.” I walk toward her, stopping myself from wrapping my arms around her and kissing her like I wish I could. Patience, I remind myself.
She again shakes her head; apparently, she’s not yet versed in how to take a compliment, something she’ll have to get used to.
I hold out my arm for her to slide hers through. “The words are, ‘thank you, Raff.’”
“I was going to reply with, ‘I know,’ but that felt a bit presumptuous.”
“Presume away.” I chuckle. “You should know how gorgeous you are.”
“A bit heavy for a first fake date, wouldn’t you say?” She links her arm through mine even though she just mocked the gesture.
“Play it up, Red, bets are going on inside, and right now, that vile creature Nellie is winning because she’s the only one who bet against us.”
As we walk past the front windows of the bar, sure enough, half the patrons are gathered, peering out at us.
Nikki sighs. “Welcome to small-town, USA, where everyone knows everyone else’s next move before it even happens.”
“Well, lucky for you, your date is somewhat of a clairvoyant. I knew enough not to plan our evening in town.” We walk down the alley toward my black Audi. I considered bringing her on my bike, but I wasn’t sure what shoes she would wear or that the weather wouldn’t change on a dime. Next spring, I’ll get her on it.
“Where are we going?” She unlinks her arm from mine, and I open the passenger door for her.
She slides inside, and to my surprise, immediately buckles up. “Soon, you’ll see.” I wink and shut the door.
I sit down in the comfortable leather seat, turn on the vehicle, the heat, and her seat warmer.
“Can you at least tell me how far we’re going?”
“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” I start the vehicle and begin to back up.
“Okay, then tell me.”
“I said it wouldn’t hurt, but it might ruin the surprise.”
She huffs, “You’re a frustrating man,” and leans back in the seat.
“I won’t say that’s the first time I’ve heard that, but I do promise it will eventually become less of an annoyance to you.”
“Who told you that, your mother? Because mothers are supposed to lie to make their kids feel better.”
“Actually.” I clear my throat, wondering whether or not I should say what’s in my head. For years, I’ve zipped my lip about Hope in any public setting, worried that if I mentioned her, it would get me pity. I despise pity. I glance at Nikki, and for maybe the first time, I’m not afraid of her reaction. “Hope said the very same thing on our very first date.”
She bites her lip, at first unsure how to reply. “Did she?” And then, she smiles. “That’s a funny coincidence.”
Just like that, my heart thumps. I was right. “She did. Said I was the most frustrating man she ever met, and I had laughed.”
“But,” she flips her hair behind her shoulders, “you and I are fake dating, remember?”
Under my breath, I mutter, “We’ll see about that.”
“I told you, I wasn’t ready for anything serious. A friendship I can handle. A fake relationship can work in both our favors, too. But nothing more.”
My eyes glance down to her thighs. “Casual sex isn’t off