Page 22 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

JACK

W e made our way down the steps and across the lawn to where I’d parked my Audi.

I knew damn well that Mia’s mom, aunt and sister were at the living room window, peeking through the curtain.

I also knew that Helen had assured Mia, in a hushed voice, that she had the perfect recipe book to send her, to really get those calories burning.

It made my fucking blood boil, so it was with gritted teeth that I opened the passenger door for Mia.

Just as she was about to slide into the seat, I stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “They’re watching us through the curtain,” I murmured. “You know what that means?”

Mia’s gaze immediately dropped to my lips, her breath catching audibly. My pulse leapt in response, a rush of heat flooding my veins.

“Exactly.”

Resisting every feral urge to drag her into my arms and kiss her senseless, I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to.

She didn’t. Instead, her eyes fluttered closed, her face tilting up to meet mine.

I brushed my lips against hers once, twice, soft caresses that were nowhere near enough.

I knew I shouldn’t, but she was irresistible.

Fuck it. I kissed her properly, deeply, my tongue slipping past her lips to taste her.

She made that little sound in the back of her throat that had been haunting my dreams since our “practice” kiss in my office, and I had to force myself to remember we had an audience.

When I finally pulled back, her eyes remained closed for a moment longer, her lips still slightly parted. Then her lashes lifted, revealing eyes soft with something that looked dangerously like desire. She looked dazed, her cheeks flushed. Satisfaction coursed through me at the sight.

I pulled back, pulled myself together. “That should give them something to talk about.”

She nodded, seemingly unable to form words as she slipped into the passenger seat. I closed her door, taking an extra moment to compose myself before walking around to the driver’s side.

As I pulled onto the main road, I made a turn that would take us deeper into New Bern, instead of heading back toward Esperance.

Mia frowned when she noticed we weren’t heading home. “Where are we going? Esperance is the other direction.”

“To an Italian restaurant on the main strip. You barely ate anything at lunch.”

“I’m fine,” she protested immediately, just as I’d known she would. “Not hungry. I can eat something at home.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” I pulled into a parking space on a charming street lined with boutiques and restaurants.

She sighed beside me, but there was a hint of amusement in it. “You know, for a fake boyfriend, you’re awfully bossy.”

“Part of my charm.”

D’Angelo’s was warm and inviting, the rich aroma of garlic and basil enveloping us as we stepped inside. The restaurant was busy but not packed. A petite woman with curly dark hair and expressive brown eyes approached us with menus in hand. Before she could speak, Mia let out a small gasp.

“Ally! I didn’t know you were still working here?”

The woman’s face lit up with recognition, her smile wide and genuine. “Mia Harris! It’s been ages!” She glanced curiously at me, then back to Mia. “I’m just helping out today, because Mom and Dad are short staffed.”

“Well, it’s great to see you.”

“Straight back at ya.” Ally’s eyes flicked between us with undisguised curiosity. “Table for two?”

“Yes, please,” I answered, my hand still firmly holding Mia’s.

Ally led us to a cozy booth in the corner, slightly removed from the busier sections of the restaurant. “This work for you?”

Mia slid into the booth with a sigh. “It’s perfect, thanks.”

“I’ll send someone over with water in a minute,” she promised, placing the menus on the table, then headed back toward the front of the restaurant.

I settled into the seat across from Mia, watching as she relaxed into the cozy environment. The tension she’d been carrying since we arrived at her aunt’s house seemed to ease slightly.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked, picking up my menu.

“Well, see, it’s like this. I was in the eighth grade with Emma Carter and we got to be good friends.

She started dating Jake before we finished high school but they broke up when he was in a car accident with this guy called Dante.

Jake has an older brother, Gabe. Gabe has a best friend called Matt, who has a sister called Lucy.

Matt did some building work for Zara, when she inherited her aunt’s house in the Valley.

Ally is Zara’s best friend. So now Jake and Emma are together, Matt and Zara are together, Lucy and Dante are together, and Ally and Gabe are together. That’s how I know Ally.”

I chuckled. “That’s pretty convoluted.”

Mia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “That’s how small towns are, I guess.”

Before I could respond, a young boy appeared beside our table, clutching a basket of bread with intense concentration. He couldn’t have been more than nine, with a mop of dark curls and a serious expression that seemed comically mature on his young face.

“Bread delivery,” he announced proudly, carefully placing the basket on our table. “Don’t eat it all at once.”

Mia’s face softened immediately. “Aaw, thanks, Jesse. That’s very professional service.”

The boy grinned at her. “Thanks. Mom says I’m a natural.”

Ally reappeared with our water, balancing two glasses expertly. “I see my assistant manager has taken care of your bread needs.”

“I didn’t spill anything,” Jesse reported, standing a little straighter.

“Perfect job.” Ally ruffled his hair affectionately. “Why don’t you go see if Table Six needs more napkins?”

He nodded and marched off. Ally watched him go with a fond smile before turning back to us. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A bottle of the Montepulciano,” I said decisively.

“Coming right up.” She gave us a smile before heading toward the bar.

“Fancy wine on a Saturday evening?” Mia asked when we were alone, her fingers fidgeting with the corner of her menu. “What’s the occasion?”

“Surviving your family.” I didn’t try to hide the edge in my voice.

She winced, looking down at the table. “That bad, huh? I’m sorry. I know they can be a lot.”

“Don’t apologize for them.” I kept my voice low, leaning slightly across the table. “You’re not responsible for their behavior.”

Mia’s eyes met mine, vulnerable and uncertain. “I feel like I should have warned you better. About my mom, especially.”

“You warned me plenty. But I’m not sure anything could have prepared me for seeing you treated like that.”

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Her voice was genuinely curious, as if she truly didn’t recognize the barrage of subtle wounds her mother had inflicted throughout the day.

I studied Mia’s face in the warm lighting of the restaurant. “It was hard not to notice how overly surprised your mom and sister were when we walked in. And the other woman, your Aunt… ?”

“Monica.”

“That’s the one. They were surprised, then they were disbelieving, watching us the whole afternoon, right up to spying at the window when we left. It’s fucking insulting, Mia.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think they’d be that bad?—”

“I don’t mean insulting to me, sweetheart. I mean insulting to you.”

Fuck. The endearment just slipped out, because she’d looked so upset at my harsh words.

But I guess she didn’t notice, because she shrugged and said, “It’s always been like that. I’m used to it.”

The irony of fake dating someone you’re overwhelmingly attracted to, just to have her family not believe you possibly could be, was not lost on me.

Ally returned with the wine and to take our orders, saving me from the maelstrom of thoughts whirling around in my head.

“I’m really not hungry,” Mia protested again when Ally looked at her expectantly.

“How about we share the antipasto platter? Then you can eat as much or as little as you like.”

Mia narrowed her eyes at me, which made me smile. She very well knew I was going to ply her with food, one way or another. “Fine. Okay.”

“Great. And we’ll have a serve of the cheesy garlic bread, and the arancini balls as well, thanks.”

“Good choice! I’ll get onto that right now for you.”

I topped up Mia’s wine glass. “You’re done talking about your family, aren’t you?”

Mia smiled. “Yeah. Fuck them.”

“That’s the spirit. How about we change the subject, then.”

She relaxed against the booth, taking a sip of wine. There was a definite shift in her mood. “Great idea. What do you want to talk about?”

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“What’s that? You want to proposition me?”

My gaze flew to her face, only to find her eyes dancing. “Mia, you know that’s not what I said.”

She laughed, and honestly, I could listen to that sound every day for the rest of my life and not get sick of it. “Yeah, I do know. But there was a tiny moment there where you believed I thought that’s what you said and you panicked. Am I right?”

“Yes. You’re right. Happy now?”

“Very. What’s the proposition?”

“Now that we’re ready to implement your customer archetype with the Eastern division, it’s time for you to run both teams.”