Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(67)

They stood there, so close but not touching, and the rest of the world faded away until it was just them standing on the edge of a dance floor.

“My shoe broke,” she said. “Which really is just the topper of a total hell day—really a hell month—that all started because I filled out a form on a dating app after a couple of shots of tequila.”

His smile flattened. Her gut dropped.

“I understand,” he said, turning and walking away.

Oh yes, Zara, please open your mouth and ruin the moment.

“That didn’t come out right,” she said as she did the up-down clomping walk over to him because she only had on one shoe. “It’s hell because I keep fucking it up, not because it happened.”

Caleb stopped and turned, crossing his arms over his chest. Damn. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to wear tuxes. The combination of Caleb plus tuxedo was lethal. Her stomach twisted as she realized she might never see him like this again if she couldn’t find the right words to fix things.

“You were right.” She reached deep for the courage to keep going as she stood in front of him, one foot in a shoe and the other raised up on her toes. “I was scared. I’ve always been scared, so I retreated back into work, creating little worlds where I got to control everything. It was all going wonderfully until I met you, because you made me want more than my little worlds.” She took in a raggedy breath because everything rode on this next thing. “I’m hoping you’ll give me—give us—another chance. We still have one more Bramble date to go, so what do you say?”

The people swarmed around them on their way to the dance floor, oblivious to the drama playing out right in front of their noses. Meanwhile, Zara was seconds away from a heart attack as she waited for Caleb’s answer. Everything hung on this moment, everything.

After an eternity of looking at her, his gaze moving from the hem of her baby-blue gown to her face, he shook his head. “No.”

All the air in her lungs evaporated, leaving her chest empty and aching. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes as she clenched her teeth together to keep from crying. She wouldn’t do that here. She’d wait until she got into the Uber for that, just like someone who hadn’t been decimated by a two-letter word.

“Oh, okay…” she said, floundering for words. “I’ll just…” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

She stumbled back a few steps—heel, flat foot, heel, flat foot—needing to get out of there before she broke down.

“Zara,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “When was the last time you checked your Bramble app?”

The question was such a non sequitur that it stopped her backward motion. “I was sad and mad and all of the things, so I got rid of it.”

“Download it.” He closed the space between them; what had taken her five bumbling steps took him two. “Right now.”

Hesitating, Zara tried to make sense of the request. They were past the Bramble app, weren’t they? He’d said no. He didn’t want to go on a fifth date. This thing between them, it was done.

“Zara.” Caleb reached out and took her broken shoe from her grasp. “Trust me.”

And despite what had just happened and the upheaval making her jittery, she did. So she took her phone out of her purse and tried not to freak out when she saw the red battery alert and the low signal bars. She swiped open the App Store and tapped download again on the Bramble app, not knowing what would happen next but sending up a prayer that it wouldn’t break her.

…

Caleb was not a patient man, but even if he had been, this whole thing was taking too long. His palms were getting itchy watching her mess with her phone, but he wasn’t going to use his phone and show her what he’d done, not after what had happened with Helene Carlyle. This wasn’t his play to make. She had to be in charge.

Zara held up her hand, one finger raised. “Almost there.”

Thank God. He started to let out the breath he was holding.

“Yes.” She did an off-balance shimmy dance while the people around them pretending to be oblivious to what was going on pretended not to watch. “Now I just have to log in.”

He wanted a time machine just so he could go back and smack himself in the head before he came up with such a dumb-ass plan.

“Shit,” she mumbled. “Wrong password.” She looked up at him, her expression tight. “Let me try again. I’m sure I just typed it incorrectly.” Her fingers shook as she tried it again. When she got denied again, she handed her phone over to him, panic and worry coming off her in waves. “It’s Anchovy. You try it.”

“Your password is your dog’s name?” He shook his head. One of his sisters was a cyber security consultant. She’d have a field day if she knew.

“I know it’s dumb, but it’s not like my Bramble account is tied to anything important.” Zara smacked her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, that’s not what I meant.”

He froze for a second, translating what she’d said into what she’d meant. Yeah, it was a good thing his brain was wired so he was used to having to translate garbage signals. The next few decades were going to be pretty interesting.

“I know.” He typed in her password, brought up the video on the app’s home screen, and handed her phone back to her. “Press play. I had to make this to explain why I couldn’t complete the five dates I was obligated to go on and why I never would. It’ll only be on your home screen unless you okay it going wide. I mean every word of this, but I didn’t want to pressure you in any way by doing a huge public grand gesture. This is your call.”