The Pairing (The Proposition #3)(45)

He gave a brief nod. He was having trouble processing all the emotions swirling through his mind. “So when it is?” she asked.

“When is what?” he asked dumbly. He was still far too obliterated by a simple hand job to be processing coherent thoughts.

“Our date.”

He had almost forgotten what he asked of her. Out of the heat of the moment, he felt guilty for what he had done. He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t being fair. You don’t owe me a date.”

“Yes, I do. I always keep my promises.”

“You’re really going to go out with me?”

She grinned. “Of course I am.”

His heartbeat sped up. “Are you off this Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have plans?”

“No, I don’t.”

“And you can get someone to watch your son?”

“Yessss,” she replied, with a smile.

“Okay, then let’s do it Saturday.”

“Do what exactly?”

“The date.”

She laughed. “Yes, but what are we doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Tilting her head, she eyed him suspiciously. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“I promise you’ll like it.”

“What should I wear for this surprise date?”

Already the wheels had been turning in his head. Since it might be his only chance, he knew he wanted to make the date as special as he could. “Wear something dressy. We might be going somewhere that requires more formal wear than jeans.”

“Okay, I think I can do that.”

At the sound of his pager, he grimaced. “Guess I’ll be the one leaving first.” Without hesitating, he bowed his head to kiss her. Just like before, the feel of her mouth against his lit him on fire. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

“Go wash up first.” Her breath warmed his cheek before she glanced up into his eyes. “I can taste myself on you.”

He closed his eyes as a shudder went through his body. “You’re trying to kill me.”

She flashed him a wicked grin. “Sorry. It’s the truth.”

“Behave yourself,” he replied, before he headed to the door.

Chapter Fourteen

With less than ten minutes before Pesh was set to arrive for their date, Megan found herself a neurotic mess still holed in the bathroom. She’d changed outfits at least three times before deciding on a black and white lace dress that came just to her knees. It had actually come out of the back of her closet—one of the tamer remnants of her wilder days. Pesh had told her to wear something dressy, and it did fall into the dressy category, although it was probably a little sexier than she would have liked.

While she’d pulled her long hair back into a loose knot at the back of her neck, she was now rethinking her strategy. If she’d left her hair down, it would cover more of the exposed skin that the spaghetti straps and neck of the dress showed. Glancing at her phone one more time, she cringed. “Fuck it,” she muttered, before spritzing on some perfume. After the fragrant cloud faded, she headed out of the bathroom. She grabbed her purse and headed upstairs.

When she came into the kitchen, a loud, cat-calling whistle pierced her ear. She scowled at Sean. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “You look hot, sis.”

Gavin, who stood beside Sean at the counter, nodded. “We never see you in anything but scrubs.”

Megan couldn’t help smiling at her brothers. “Thank you.”

Wagging his brows, Gavin asked, “Got a hot date, huh?”

“Not exactly,” she replied, as she went to grab her purse.

“Yeah right,” he mumbled under his breath.

After slinging her purse on her shoulder, she whirled around to pin him with her stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that chicks don’t get dressed up like that for nothing. You obviously want to impress this guy. So, it’s obviously a hot date.”

“Since when did you become the love guru?” she questioned.

Sean grinned as he elbowed Gavin. “She’s getting riled, man. Being irrational about little things usually means love.”

Megan opened her mouth to lay into her brothers, but then found herself speechless, so she closed it back up. Without another word to her brothers, she went into the living room. She found her dad lounging in his chair with Mason snuggled to his side. When her dad looked up, he did a double take. “Don’t you look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.

She bent down and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Mason tore his gaze away from the television to look at her. “Mommy, bye-bye?”

This was one question she hadn’t anticipated explaining. “Yes, Mommy is going to go see a friend today, and you’re going to stay here with Grammy and Granddad.”

His tiny brows furrowed. “Mace no go?”

Guilt rocketed through her. How could she spend one of her few off days away from her son? The doorbell rang, and she was forced out of her self-loathing to answer the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it. Her heart did a funny little flip-flop at the sight of Pesh on the porch. It wasn’t just how handsome he looked in his khaki pants, red button-down Polo shirt, and black blazer. It was also the fact he held a dozen red roses in his hand. “Hi,” she said shyly, after they had stared at each other for a few seconds.