Page 23 of Reluctantly Yours

“Thanks, doll. They’re part of my new line, Frankie’s Faux Nails.”

“So, you’re an entrepreneur? That’s great.”

Frankie runs her hand and said nails over the back of Fred’s head. “He’s making all my dreams come true.”

“You’re the one with all the ideas, baby.”

As Frankie and Fred look adoringly at each other, an awkward silence falls over the table. Or maybe it’s only on mine and Chloe’s side.

“I’m going to use the ladies’ room,” Chloe announces, grabbing her clutch, before turning to me.

I stand. “I’ll show you where it is,” I say, then I’m hot on Chloe’s heels as we approach the alcove where the restrooms are located.

I’m not sure what Chloe is thinking, but we need to regroup. I’m regretting not telling her about the girlfriend thing earlier, but I thought it would be easier if it wasn’t staged, more natural. Chloe is not a natural.

“What is happening out there?” I ask when we’ve cleared the main dining room.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“We’re not on the same page at all.”

“I’m sorry. If you wanted a solid relationship back story, I need more than three minutes’ notice.”

“I thought it would be more natural if we winged it. Less pressure to perform.”

“That sounds like your insecurity, not mine,” she fires back.

“I’ve never had any complaints.” I smirk.

Chloe’s eyes find the ceiling and I feel my lips tug upwards. I could go back and forth with her all night, but that’s not why we’re here.

“You’re practically on the other side of the table.”

“And?”

“I need you to touch me,” I say.

Chloe’s eyes go wide.

“I thought you said this wasn’t that kind of favor.”

“Like we’re together. Make it believable.”

“You want me to make out with you at the table?”

“God, no.” I have to pinch the bridge of my nose, and take a moment to gather myself. When I find Chloe less infuriating, I open my eyes again. “Fred and Frankie are an affectionate couple. Try to match their energy. Act like you’ve touched me before. Like we’re familiar with each other. Can you do that?”

“I think so.” She nods slowly, mulling it over. “I don’t have much experience in this department.”

For the first time tonight, I look at her. It was impossible to miss the dress, that scrap of material hit me over the head the moment she stepped out of the car. Now, my eyes rake over Chloe’s face. Her big blue eyes, her pouty lower lip that is caught between her teeth. Her long, red hair has been straightened. It’s glossy and thick, but I prefer the wild waves she had last night. The delicate gold chain around her neck dips into the hollow where her clavicles meet.

I don’t even want to chance looking down at her body. Fuck, too late. With our height difference, my eyes fall straight into her cleavage. Chloe is petite in stature, but she’s got curves. Those curves are accentuated in this dress. Full breasts, trim waist, soft hips. My hand itches to reach out and trace the outline of her hip. To press my fingers into the forgiving flesh there, move along her side body to feel the contrast between her rib cage and the softness of her breasts before settling them in the indented space above her hip. I shouldn’t be looking at her like this. I should be focused on how the hell we’re going to make it through this dinner.

“Sex?” I ask, not remembering what we were talking about but more what I was imagining.

“What?” she asks, clearly confused. Her brain is obviously not being controlled by her nether regions. “No. I’m saying I’ve never had to pretend to like a guy before. This,” she motions between us, “is new to me.”

Right. “That’s normal. I’ve never had to pretend to be interested in a woman either.” Except, whether I want to admit it or not, I am attracted to Chloe. Based on my reaction to Chloe in her dress, or the fact that I couldn’t get the image of her in that sparkly dress she was in last night out of my head, I won’t have to pretend. She doesn’t need to know that.