The Dating Plan(61)
“I told you we should have invested in that one,” Marco said, making no effort to keep his voice down. “He was swimming in tits and ass.” He looked over at Daisy. “Pardon my French.”
Daisy gave him a cold smile. “Quel salaud!”
Liam didn’t speak French, but from the look on Daisy’s face he suspected what she’d said wasn’t polite.
“So who is she really?” Dan gave him a nudge, keeping his voice low. “I mean, come on, man. You and her?”
“I’m his parole officer.” Daisy grabbed Liam’s arm and tugged him in the opposite direction. “He’s on an escorted day pass. Move aside because I have to have him back in his cell by eleven P.M.”
Dan’s eyes widened. “No shit? What did he do?”
“He swam in the wrong hot tub.” Daisy fixed Dan with a glare. “Next time, check their ID.”
? 22 ?
“I’M sorry.”
“I know.” Daisy bit back a sigh. Liam had apologized ten times since their encounter with his friends. Next, he’d try to explain. Again.
“I should have turned the other way, but they’d seen us and . . .”
Daisy turned to Liam as they pulled into her driveway. “If you say it one more time I’m going to slap you.”
“I’m not proud of that time in my life.” He turned off the car and they sat in the dark, staring at the blue garage door that had needed a new coat of paint for the last ten years.
“Apparently that time in your life was only eight months ago, which poses a problem since that’s when our fake relationship was supposed to have started.” Daisy sent a quick text to her neighbor to let her know she was on her way to pick up Max.
“If you hadn’t pulled me away, I would have decked them for insulting you.” His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Insulting me?” She raised an eyebrow. “They were insulting you. Of course someone like you wouldn’t be with a beautiful, sexy, curvy, brainiac goddess like myself. How many science fairs did you win in high school? How many math competitions? How many tech companies were beating down your door when you graduated from college with the gold medal? Did you know that the longest English word is 189,819 letters long? Or that the French word for bastard is salaud?”
His lips quivered at the corners. “I knew what you said wasn’t polite.”
“Not in the least.” Daisy chuckled. Liam was much more distraught than she was, but then he’d never been a high school nerd, never been mocked for everything from her intelligence to her clothes. “But they deserved it. Seriously. Who talks like that in front of someone’s fiancée? I’m no victim, Liam. I didn’t need protecting.”
His mouth tightened in a straight line, and he grumbled. “You could have thought of something other than parole officer.”
“Are you sulking now?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Because I quickly and elegantly extracted us from an untenable situation? You should be kissing my feet in gratitude.”
“You could have been my private jet pilot,” he muttered. “Or my personal banker. Now they’re going to think I’m incarcerated.”
Daisy laughed. “Then it will be a big shock when they see you in a few weeks in your outdoor hot tub draped in glamor models and partying like there’s no tomorrow.”
“That’s not who I am,” Liam said. “It’s part of the job, but I don’t enjoy it.”
“Says every man who goes to a strip club.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not upset, Liam. I developed a thick skin in high school. But they raised a good point. Maybe we’re just not believable as a couple. And if that’s the case, we might as well stop this charade. How do you explain going from the type of women you dated before to me? How do I explain going from Orson to you?”
“You developed taste.” He preened in the rearview mirror.
She laughed. “And you lost it?”
“I found perfection.”
He sounded so serious, she almost believed him. Wanted to believe him. “Always the funny guy. What are we going to do? They didn’t believe it. Brendan didn’t believe it. Even your aunt said no one believed you the first time you said you were engaged. Will our fake dates be enough to convince everyone this is real? And more importantly, what about my dad? All he’s known is that I’ve hated you for the last ten years. Will we be able to convince him, too?”
“Do you still hate me?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t have to think about her answer. “No. I haven’t completely forgiven you, but I don’t hate you anymore. I’ve enjoyed our little charade.”
“Good to know.”
She looked over at him, his hands clenched on the steering wheel, face distant and forlorn. She couldn’t send him home to brood. “Do you want to come in and meet Max? Mehar Auntie dropped him off with my neighbor because she was going out for dinner.”
Liam sighed. “What if he doesn’t like me? You said it would all be over.”
“I think he will like you.”
“Hmm.” He unbuckled his seat belt, his face brightening. “I am very likable.”
“You are.”