Page 25

BRYCE

The only thingmore ridiculous than being set up on a date with a man your mother picked for you is to have him pick you up and drive you to your family home for it.

Not only do I not like random people knowing where I live, but I really, really fucking hate it when I don’t want this man to be anywhere near me to begin with.

My family home is about fifteen minutes north of town in a small community of exorbitantly built designer homes. It faces the golf course that loops through the entire community and a man-made swamp that I bet Darren to swim in years ago. The HOA fees are disgusting, and the rules that go along them with are just as bad, but my parents love living there.

I’ve always thought it was ironic that the mayor of Cherry Peak doesn’t even live in the town, but fuck if anyone else cares about that.

The inside of the sports car is stuffy and uncomfortable, but once Jean steps out, I take a full breath and shake some of the tension from my shoulders. He’s heading for my side, so I pop open the door before he has a chance to do it for me.

The man my mother set me up with today is tall and lankywith classically handsome features, boring brown eyes, and a clean-shaven jaw. The lines of his white dress shirt and matching linen pants are crisp and perfectly ironed.

There are brown loafers on his feet.

Loafers.

I’m more concerned about how my mother thought for even one half of a second that I would like this guy than I am about how I’m going to ditch him in a few minutes.

Jean grips the side of the door and pulls it as far open as it’ll go before I step out. My boots scuff the driveway as I sidestep the hand he offers to me and tug my denim skirt further down my thighs.

“May I at least open the front door of the house for you?” he asks, half teasing, half begging.

I linger, waiting while he shuts my car door and uses an app on his phone to lock both of them. “I like to open my own doors.”

“We’re on a date. I will open the door for you always.”

His French accent is so thick all it does is remind me of my mother.

“No, thanks,” I say before beginning the walk to the house.

The stench of flowers from the bushes lining the edges of the curved driveway has always been overwhelming. I’ve never seen my mother watering them once in my life, and I doubt I ever will.

Jean catches up to me quickly, and I shove my hands in my pockets before he grabs one of them the way he tried to on the drive here.

“Your mother told me you do not like kind gestures. I thought she was lying,” he reveals.

“My mother lies about a lot of things, Jean, but that wasn’t one of them.”

“It’s rude to deny genuine gestures.”

“I never said I wasn’t rude.”

He clucks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “It would be a lie.”

I stop moving, coming to a stop before the cement stairs leading to the massive double doors leading inside the house. The tall columns on either side of the stairs are thick and round, supporting the balcony that faces this side of the property and connects to my parents’ room. If I thought for a moment that my mom was up there, I wouldn’t bother with my next words, but I’d bet she’s on the other side of the front door, waiting and watching for us to come in.

Turning to face the bureaucrat wannabe, I set my hands on my hips and keep my expression stiff.

“Listen, Jean. The only reason I’m here is to get my mother off my back for a little while. I don’t know what you did to deserve being forced to take me out on a date, but whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t terrible enough for you to stick this out. You’re more than welcome to leave if you’re going to sit and complain about my rudeness for the next hour. Whether we finish this date or not, I came, and she’ll take that as a win.”

He stares at me for a few moments, surprise and almost a bit of humour appearing in his eyes before he clears his throat.

“I am not leaving.”

I shrug a shoulder. “Your funeral.”

The front door opens, and a beat later, my mother’s face appears. Her makeup thick and flawless, she beams at Jean and gestures for us to come in with a hand heavy with diamond rings.