Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(17)

“Isn’t it? He’s a genius with pastry. The burger stand belongs to his son now, but Phil does the odd night for him. He has a warehouse in Putney and makes all the pastries there. He was trained at The Ritz.” I nudge him. “So, you got fine dining after all.”

He finishes his pastry and looks around for a napkin. Not finding one, he shrugs and licks his fingers, grinning at me as he does it. That grin gets me. He’s so urbane—a creature of boardrooms and fancy dining—and yet here he is with me on an old sofa eating pastries out of a bag and drinking hot chocolate.

The music from the bar changes to Frank Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night” and I blink as he stands up. “Running away screaming?” I ask.

He stares down at me for a long second. “No, not now,” he says. I open my mouth to query that odd statement, but he holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He chuckles. “Dance with me.” He looks around. “Isn’t this the perfect place for it?”

“We’re behind a burger van.”

“No, we’re by the river under pretty lights, and it’s just us and the music.” He shrugs. “I couldn’t have done better myself. Dance with me,” he cajoles.

I stand up, taking his hand and letting him pull me close. His big, broad-shouldered body is warm, and I chuckle as he spins me into an elaborate turn. “Fancy,” I observe.

“Thank you. I do try.”

It starts to rain, but we’re safe under the overhang. A sudden silence falls between us, but it isn’t awkward one bit. Instead, it’s almost happy, and it confuses me because I’ve never felt this easy with someone before. I’m usually impulsive and loud, but tonight I’m a quiet man dancing with a handsome stranger of my own.

“I want to see you again,” he whispers.

I freeze for a second. Should I be doing this? He’s fascinating and gorgeous, but I bet he’s bloody deadly on the old heart.

He’s watching me with mysterious eyes, a few stray raindrops glistening in his dark hair like diamonds. “Well?” he says.

“Just one more date?”

He smiles crookedly. “Let’s not call it that.”

“What should I call it?” I brighten. “An assignation?”

“We’re not stealing emeralds in a society heist.”

I pout. “How very disappointing.”

He smiles, but his gaze is very intent. “One more meeting?”

I hold my breath for a moment, and when I exhale, my doubts leave me too. “You’re on.”

I rest my head on his shoulder again, and we carry on dancing under the flickering bistro lights while Sinatra sings and the rain falls around us in sheets.

Not romantic. Not even a little bit.





Chapter

Four





Lachlan



The noise outside my office breaks my concentration, and I curse and look up from the spreadsheets I’m examining. My assistant Elliott’s voice is high with aggravation, and I wonder what’s going on.

I’m rising from my chair to find out, when the door opens and Joe appears.

My immediate smile makes me want to hit myself around the head. But I can’t help it. He’s made me smile since the first moment I’d seen him at that wedding, his sweet charm and humour on full display. He’d been intriguing, with his dark, wavy hair and a square chin that hinted his sunny temperament might be hiding stubbornness. He’d been so pretty he’d stopped my breath, and I’d watched him all the way through the wedding rather than paying attention to Daisy and Mark saying I do.

When I finally got to talk to him after stalking him, he’d been quick-witted, dry-humoured, and a funny mix of impulsiveness and steady kindness. Not to mention hot between the sheets.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

My assistant barges in behind him. “I’ll get him to leave, Lachlan.”

I shake my head quickly. “No need.” Joe’s beaming smile makes my chest puff up, but I disguise it by sitting back in my chair. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” I say as Elliott leaves and Joe grins at me.

“I’ve brought food, but more importantly I’m obviously just in time to save you from drowning in paperwork. Go me and my saviour tendencies.”

“My hero,” I say dryly, and he grins.

“Not all superheroes wear cloaks. Some of us are stuck with Burberry.”

“Well, their loss is my gain,” I drawl, eyeing the way his lithe, muscular body moves under his dark suit. He puts a bag down on my desk and then strolls around the office picking things up and putting them down like a hummingbird in pinstripe.

“And am I to have the food, or are you just taunting me while you indulge your shameless nosiness?”

He smiles back at me, unabashed at his curiosity. “You can have it, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you away from here to eat it.”

I stretch, enjoying his lightning-quick scan of my body. His eyes shine with approval.

“I can’t,” I say with genuine regret. I gesture at the paperwork spread around me. “I have so much to do.”

“And you can’t not do it as befits the owner of this huge accounting firm?” He raises one eyebrow.