Page 92 of Boyfriend of the Hour

“I think he just means I’m familiar with the sorts of events his family attends, dear,” she said kindly. “And he would be right. I’ve been dressing Lillian for close to twenty years now. You boys too, isn’t that right, Dr. Hunt?”

We both swiveled toward Nathan, who just bobbed his head. “Er, yes. That’s right.”

His cheeks pinked when he caught me gawking at him—Nathan actually looked embarrassed. I made a mental note to tease him mercilessly about needing to be “dressed” like a doll.

Or could I? After all, I was here for the same reason, wasn’t I?

“So, what do we have coming up, dear?” asked Andrea.

I blinked. Was she talking to me or Nathan?

“There’s a charity gala coming up—The Sinai Children’s fundraiser,” Nathan said.

Andrea nodded. “So we’ll need an evening gown, then. Anything else?”

“She’ll also need some clothes for dinner with my colleagues. Possibly a few small events at the Union. Cocktail hours, parties with her friends, things like that.” Nathan was barely paying attention as he thumbed through his phone. “We might go down to Virginia for the races too, so really, just help her pick out anything she likes.”

My mouth dropped. Cocktail hours? Parties? Virginia races? None of those were part of the original plan. “Nathan, that’s really not?—”

“Just do it,” he cut me off again, speaking directly to Andrea. When he finally met my gaze, he shoved his phone into his pocket and made directly for me, even taking my hand again, like he needed the contact. “Let me do this for you, please.”

I shivered at his touch. Or maybe at the slight yearning in that otherwise stoic voice. Either way, I didn’t let go.

“I’ll just start gathering a few options,” Andrea said, glancing between us curiously. “What are you, Giovanna, a size four?”

“Sometimes a two. Depends on the brand,” I murmured, unable to tear my gaze from Nathan’s deep brown one. “And you can call me Joni.” There was no way I could keep character with someone essentially the costumer for this little show of ours.

“We’ll take measurements after I come back with some options.” Andrea had the good sense to make herself scarce while Nathan pulled me to face him.

Our fingers were still intertwined. But that was because there were still people around, right? Not because he actually wanted to touch me like that.

“Nathan,” I tried again. “We were supposed to just get one or two dresses. Not a whole new wardrobe. This is totally unnecessary. You don’t have to do this.”

“I think I do.” His hand squeezed mine like he was trying to communicate something else. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured into it, “‘Reason Number Six: he looks like a magazine ad, and I bet his family does too. You look like you rolled out of a donation bin.’”

I reared back. “You saw my list?”

“Well, it wasn’t hard when you left it crumpled on the couch.”

I huffed. So, maybe I had. That didn’t mean he had to go reading the stupid thing.

Nathan tilted his head with a sly half-smile, then pulled from his other pocket a little leather-bound book and handed it to me. It was identical to the one he had, but red.

“Thought you might want to start keeping your lists in one place too,” he said. “It helps me. And I promise not to snoop.”

I took the book and stared at it for a moment. Another gift. One I had a sneaking suspicion I didn’t deserve at all. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched while I tucked it into my purse. “As for the clothes, I do think it’s necessary. If we’re going to pull this off, I don’t want you to have any doubts about fitting in. Not that I think you should.”

“You were the one who told me I can’t wear my normal clothes around your family,” I said bitterly. “I wouldn’t have even thought otherwise until you said that.”

Nathan seemed to think about that for a long moment. “What would a good boyfriend say at this moment?”

I blinked. “I—what?”

I hadn’t expectedthat. An argument, yes. Being told I was overreacting, sure. But not asking what he should say.

Nathan just came even closer. “I’m trying to do something helpful, but it’s not working. Or at least it’s coming off in the wrong way. So, help me understand what the right thing is.” He looked over my outfit, which currently consisted of my favorite pair of vintage Levi’s, a cropped leather bustier, and purple Jordan Ones I’d found at a garage sale last year.