The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(51)

“Oh, come on. It’d be fun!”

“We have different ideas of fun.”

“Of course, we do.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “You spent your teen years with Playboy in your bedroom while I was out having a life.”

Dom put the lid back on his carton of food and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “You also spent your teen years in love with me.”

“As you apparently did me.”

He paused. “Touché. Fine. We’ll play your little game, but if we don’t find two people in the next thirty minutes, we’re doing something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. We’ll go bug hunting or some shit. Anything but this.”

“Bug hunting?” I stilled. “I don’t like bugs.”

“I don’t like forcing my business onto unsuspecting people.”

“Are you kidding? They’ll love it. They can go dating with a custom-found date? Not one matched by computers? It’s genius.”

“You told me that when we set the business up, but all that got me is a few years of blue balls over you.”

“Carry on annoying me, and I’ll turn them purple.”

“How?”

“I’ll put them in a blender with a bowl full of plums, that’s how.” I covered the last carton and put it in the bag. “Let’s put these in your car and go and have some fun!”

He groaned, collecting the blanket from the grass. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“That’s pretty much the only reason I’m still alive,” I said. “It gets me out of trouble.”

He side-eyed me. “Someone’s ego is getting out of control.”

“From the guy who claims he always gives a woman three orgasms during sex.”

Dom froze. “Are you saying you didn’t have three?”

I held up two fingers, walking backward, and grinned. “Sucker.”

He looked at me darkly—full of desire. He drew level with me and hooked one finger through one of my belt loops. “Probably just as well. You screamed so loud at the end of the second, I was expecting the dead to walk through your front door.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah, well, I’m probably better equipped to deal with it than you are.”

“Chloe, you couldn’t walk.”

“I can throw a mean punch.”

Dom shook his head. “Nothing about you is mean when you have Bambi legs.”

I stopped dead on the path and shot him a massive glare that would have killed a lesser person.

He stilled. “All right, that would probably work. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“You’re smarter than you look, Dominic.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

I shrugged. “You’ll have to figure that one out.”

***

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said to Dom when he returned to our table. “But you are a terrible flirter.”

His eyebrows raised as he slid onto the stool opposite me. “What? No, I’m not. I’m a great flirter.”

“You’re really not. Remember how I was all against you flirting with the girl in the park?”

He nodded.

“Flirt with whoever you want. I’ve never seen anyone as bad at it as you.”

He picked up his beer and sipped. “How am I a bad flirter?”

“Well, for a start, you’re awkward. You make too much eye contact without actually looking at her, and you just seem, I don’t know.” I twirled one of my curls around my finger. “Awkward.”

“You already said that,” he said tightly.

“If I’m saying it twice, it’s true.” I shrugged a shoulder. “At the very least you should have touched her arm once.”

“That’s creepy.”

“No. It’s nice. It shows you’re interested.”

He put his beer down. “But I’m not interested.”

I rolled my eyes. “But you want her to think you are.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “All right. There’s a guy at the bar whose date just stepped outside to take a phone call. He looks miserable.”

I scanned the bar. “The guy taking the shot?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. If you’re such a flirting expert, go flirt our card into his pocket.”

“You’re not gonna like this,” I warned him. “I’m an excellent flirter.”

“I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “Go on, then. Show me how it’s done. I’ll try to contain my jealousy.”

Oh, ye of little faith.

This was about to get really awkward.

“All right, then.” I slipped a card into my back pocket and got up. He was still alone at the bar, so I moseyed on over and paused behind the stool. “Is this seat taken?”

The guy turned to me, giving me the once-over. “Supposed to be, but she’s having a long-ass phone conversation.”

“I just want to get a drink. Do you mind?”

He shook his head. “Knock yourself out, darlin’.”