Playing the Player(55)

“They said that?” His hands clenched the steering wheel. “Crap,” he muttered, glancing at me quickly, then focusing back on the road.

“Your mom did. She said the last girl was someone named, um…Kristen? Kristy?”

His blush deepened and I smiled to myself. It was sort of fun making him squirm.

“So, uh,” he practically stammered, “I guess they don’t turn off their prying eyes at home.” He shrugged an apology, his smile hesitant. “Sorry. Next time I’ll make sure they’re at one of their lame cooking classes or concerts or something.”

Next time? My heart jackhammered. There couldn’t be a next time, not with the weirdness between his mom and me.

But what if he wanted there to be a next time?

I tried to banish my worries. “I hope this place is casual. Maybe I should have gone home to shower and change, too.”

He glanced at me, taking me in from my toes to the top of my head. “You look…you always look…” He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry.”

I shivered under his gaze. Maybe it was the air conditioning blowing on me full blast.

In the restaurant’s lobby, we stood close together as we waited for a table. Shimmering, wispy fabric draped in undulating waves from the ceiling. The soft light from candlelit tables illuminated happy people leaning toward each other, laughing and talking, giving off that vibe of blissed out coupleness that made a single person feel pathetic. I stared at my purple toenails and shivered again.

Slade draped an arm around my shoulders. “Cold?”

Heat from his touch flooded every nerve ending in my body. I swallowed nervously, meeting his hot gaze, which drifted down to my lips, then back to my eyes.

“A little,” I said. “I’ll be fine. Maybe some tea…” My voice trailed away as a beautiful hostess rocking a green silk dress and pouty red lips gestured to us.

“Table for two? Follow me.”

Even though I wore flip-flops, I felt like I wobbled on five-inch heels. Gratefully, I sank into my chair and focused on the menu placed into my hands.

Slade settled himself across from me. “Green tea, please,” he told the waitress. She nodded and disappeared.

I glanced at the prices. Not like I couldn’t afford it, what with the laundered secret money and all. I squeezed my eyes shut. Damn damn damn.

“Trina? You all right?”

My eyes flew open to find Slade watching me intently.

Why did his mom think he needed mentoring? So maybe he wasn’t ever going to be organized like me, but he had all these other amazing qualities, like calming down freaking out kids, and reassuring freaking out nannies.

I clenched my hands. I could not fall for someone whose mom was paying me. As soon as this dinner was over, I was not spending an extra non-work-related minute with him.

“Yeah, just, you know, tired. From moving all that stuff.” Which was stupid, since he and Alex had moved all the heavy items. I sipped some tea, letting the grassy flavor fill my mouth. I hoped it had magical conversational inducing properties. Otherwise, we were doomed to a night of staring at the ceiling and grunting over our food.

“You should order,” I said, pointing to his menu.

He frowned. “You in a hurry, BB?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “No. I just thought…you know, all that heavy lifting. Makes a person hungry.” A shiver racked my body, raising goose bumps on my arms. Why were restaurants always so cold?

The corner of his mouth lifted as he refilled my tea cup. “This should warm you up.” He slid the cup across the red tablecloth toward me. I wrapped my hands around the jade green ceramic, grateful for the burn that grounded me back in reality.

“Thanks.”

He gestured to his menu, still on the table. “The food here is great. What sounds good to you?” He leaned back in his chair, watching me with a lazy grin. He seemed more relaxed now that we’d escaped his house. At least one of us was.

I sipped more tea. “Maybe just soup. I’m not very hungry.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not one of those girls who’s always dieting. I’ve shared enough lunches with you and the kids to know that.”

I laughed, feeling a little bit of tension ease away. “True. It’s just, um—”

“I’m paying for dinner, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“What? No way. That wasn’t the deal.”

His lips quirked into their customary smirk. “I’m changing the deal. The muscle man’s prerogative. You got to use my body, I get to buy dinner.”

My pulse raced. Was he turning this into an actual date? “But I wanted to thank you.”

His smile faded. “You did thank me. So did Sharon. I wasn’t expecting any sort of payment, BB. You may be a pro at saving the world, but I can help, too.”

I took a breath to calm myself. I didn’t want to argue with him. Suddenly I was ravenous. Okay, I was officially a basket case. I picked up my menu. “What’s your favorite?”

“Do you like spicy?”

“Sure.”

He nodded as if I’d passed some secret test. “Red curry. Extra hot. And we’ll get some mee krob to balance it out. We’re sharing, family style. Cool with you?”