Moonlighter (The Company, #1)(19)

Well, I haven’t. Although it’s hard to argue that Eric’s viewpoint is wrong. My quest for a partner ended badly. Although sometimes I just wonder if I’m not to blame. I’m so used to calling the shots for myself that I don’t really want someone else to do it for me.

“You gotta do you, though,” he says, taking a big bite of his fish. “Besides, I’m sure you can have any guy you want.”

“You’d be wrong,” I reply quickly. “The men who date me are usually looking for money or prestige. The men who don’t need those things all seem to want wives who are willing to stay at home and throw dinner parties and make them look good. They don’t want someone who travels ninety days a year and earns more than they do.”

He stares at me for a moment, and I wish those sunglasses weren’t hiding his intelligent gray eyes. “Those men are doofuses. They’re probably just afraid of you.”

“Some of them,” I concede, lifting my fork. “But I’m not easy to date. And it doesn’t matter anymore, because I’ve given it up.”

“That’s not very considerate,” he says, eating a french fry that looks perfectly salted and absolutely delicious. “What about your fake boyfriend’s needs? In fact…” He gets up from his place at the table, then nudges his plate next to mine. “Scoot over, would you?”

“Why? Oh.” He means to sit next to me on the same side of the table. So I move over to make room on the padded bench.

Then his solid bulk lands beside me, his left arm around my shoulder. “Okay, honey bunch. Eat up,” he says in a voice that’s loud enough to carry a couple of tables in either direction. “You need to keep up your strength for me. No passing out early like you did last night.”

“Eric!” I hiss.

He laughs. “I’m committed to playing this role. I’m all in. The good news is that you can steal my fries if you want. I see you eyeing them.”

Oh, dear. I wonder what else he’s noticed me eyeing?

But yay, fries! I take one and dip it in his ketchup. “Thank you, lover.” My boob manages to press against his arm just before I lift the french fry to my mouth. I give him a glance that says, two can play at this.

He gives me a slow, conspiratorial smile, and it confuses me. Are we joking, here? Or are we flirting for real? Those cool gray eyes aren’t always easy to read.

Fine. It’s probably all in my head. Who looks at a hormonal, stressed out woman—pregnant with another man’s baby—and says, I need to hit that. And let’s not forget I insulted him a couple of months ago.

“You’re a pretty good sport, Eric,” I say quietly.

“Thank you, babycakes. More water?” He lifts the carafe the waiter brought us and offers it to me.

“Sure, hunk-muffin.”

He snorts, and I laugh. The tension I was feeling slides blissfully away. We can do this. We can be friends again under tricky circumstances, like we were so many years before.

But then I happen to glance up, and the smile slides right off my face. Because Jared Tatum is taking a seat about twenty feet away from our table.

And just like that I’m stressed out all over again.





7





Eric





The first two times Alex moves her smooth knee against mine, I think it’s a come-on. In fact, I can’t resist sliding a hand beneath the table and smoothing her skirt over her leg.

She promptly kicks me.

And that’s when I finally realize that the knee maneuver was meant to be a nudge, telling me her ex is in view.

Whoops. My bad.

I sit up straighter and scan the room. And there he is, only two tables away. As adversaries go, he’s not that interesting. Khaki pants. Blue polo shirt. Closely cropped brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He’s perusing the menu, his feet crossed at the ankles.

Eh. I could crush him in the palm of my hand. And it would be very satisfying.

“You’re making a face,” Alex whispers beside me.

“So?”

“That’s not good acting. No Academy Award for you.”

“I call bullshit. My job description is simply to be your very convincing jealous boyfriend.” I put an arm around her again and pull Alex close. Oh, the hardship. She smells like flowers and sunshine. And just to show her what a good actor I am, I turn and press a soft kiss to her temple. And then another. Acting is good work if you can get it. Her skin is so soft against my lips…

She clears her throat.

I release her. “Now who isn’t playing her role?”

“Not true.” She lifts her chin and turns to sear me with a look. “I don’t do PDA. Ever.”

“Not even for your big, grumpy, jealous boyfriend?”

“Not at a business conference.” She gives her head a shake. “There are other ways to act like a couple without pawing each other.”

I laugh out loud. “Pawing? I kissed you on your stubborn, bossy head. If there were pawing, you’d know. I could demonstrate later, if you want. No pressure.”

Her cheeks pink up. “You’re teasing me.”

“Just a little,” I admit. “Not that it doesn’t sound like fun. But I would never embarrass you, Engels. I know you’re surrounded by colleagues.”