The Girl Next Door - Emma Hart Page 0,36

so weird.”

“Thank you.” Grinning, I put it back in the fridge and closed the door. “Well? What’s your solution, Sherlock?”

“Sherlock investigates things.”

“Well, my lack of a fake wedding ring warrants investigation, so I’ll ask you again: What’s your solution, Sherlock?”

“So, so fucking weird,” Kai muttered. “This is my solution.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small box that looked scarily like a ring box.”

I took a step back. “If you bought that—”

“I didn’t,” he said quickly. “I promise.”

I held my hand to my chest and blew out a breath. “This is pretty heavy for a first date, Connors.”

His laugh filled the room—and sent goosebumps dancing over my skin. “Well, we already skipped a few steps.” He looked pointedly at my lower stomach. “One more won’t hurt.”

I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth. “All right, hit me. Show me what you did.”

“Anna helped.” He walked over to me and dropped to one knee. “Will you be my fake wife, Ivy?”

I glanced down at the box. “Is that a gummy ring?”

Kai laughed and reached into his back pocket. “It is, but this isn’t.” He produced another ring that was gorgeous—white gold with one simple stone set in the middle.

It was small, classy, and completely beautiful.

“Where did you get that?”

“Family ring. It probably won’t fit perfectly, but you know.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You can borrow it for this…experiment.”

“Experiment.”

“Experiment,” he confirmed.

I laughed. “Okay, yes, I’ll be your fake wife.”

“Phew.” He stood up and handed me the ring. “Here you go.”

“Here you go?” I took the ring from him. “Wow. My first proposal is fake, and you don’t even put the ring on me.”

With a huff, he wrestled the ring from my fingers and took my left hand. I laughed when he selected my ring finger and slipped the ring onto it.

We both froze.

It fit perfectly.

Swallowing, I jerked my hand back. “Well, at least it solves that question.”

I wasn’t going to think about the fact that ring sat on my finger like it was made for it.

Co. In. Ci. Dence.

That was my story. And I was going to stick to it like glue.

“Shall we go?” Kai asked, motioning toward the door.

I nodded and grabbed my purse. “You should know that I am awful at mini golf.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“I almost hit myself in the head with the club once.”

“All right, you can be that bad.”

I swatted him and followed him out. I stopped to lock the door before we turned to the stairs. “I don’t have great aim. I’m a bit like the giants in Harry Potter where they swing their clubs around aimlessly hoping to hit someone with it.”

“Ah, a bit like teenage boys and their penises.”

“I sure hope teenage boys aren’t waving their penises around in the hopes it’ll hit someone.”

“You’d be surprised.”

I highly doubted it. And even if I could, I’d had enough surprises for one week, thank you very much.

I said that, too.

Kai chuckled and held open the apartment building door for me. “I’ll give you that one. Don’t worry. I promise not to swing my penis around in the hopes it’ll hit you.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” I muttered, pressing my hand against my lower stomach.

He laughed and dropped his arm over my shoulders. “All right, Jesus, you win that one, too.”

I rolled my eyes and waited for him to pull his keys from his pocket. He unlocked his truck, but before I could open the door, he grabbed the handle and did it for me.

“Look at you being a gentleman,” I teased, climbing in.

“I am capable of it. Sometimes.” He winked and pushed the door closed.

I watched as he rounded the front of the truck and got in the other side. I tried to train my gaze to stay away from him, but it just wouldn’t comply with my brain.

Not as he started the engine, not as he put the car in reverse, and not as he pulled out of his parking spot.

Definitely not as he put it back into gear and pulled away from the parking lot entirely.

He really was handsome. Dark hair, blue eyes, lips that could seduce a slab of granite—honestly, it was so unfair. God must have been working overtime the day he created Kai Connors.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Why a phoenix tattoo?” I asked, poking his upper arm where the tail was on show beneath the arm of his t-shirt.

“Random,” he said, turning on the blinker. “I don’t know. I liked it,