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Forcing a shaky step back, I suck in the fresh air between us.

“You’re right, I didn’t. But I should have.

I know how these dates work. Publicity shots, social media coverage.

I won’t risk my job or the auction’s reputation because you feel like you owe me for rescuing you from your crazy ex.

” I say that last part in a hushed whisper.

Dalton takes back the space I just put between us. “I would never risk that either, and I do owe you. Being indebted to someone isn’t something I tolerate. Pretty sure you understand that.”

My jaw clenches. I did understand. Too well. It irks me that he seems to have picked up on that fact. Dalton presses on before I can reject him again.

“I’ve already talked to Ramona. Told her my bidder wants to remain anonymous, no face, no names.

A private date. Your boss was pissed at first, but I spun it as a marketing opportunity.

I will take all the photos and Ramona gets final approval.

You’ll see glimpses of my date, but nothing identifying.

This way, when other women see the posts, they can imagine themselves in her place.

It might bring in more bidders next year. ”

I chew on my lower lip. Well, damn, that was a good marketing ploy.

“And the paparazzi?” I gesture to the lineup of bored cameramen barricaded just outside the privacy screen.

Thank God there’s also a huge black SUV between us, ensuring we’re hidden from prying eyes.

They wouldn’t give a crap about me, but Dalton Ward?

Shots of The Vortex’s winning captain are worth a pretty penny.

“Calls have been made and plans changed. This will be a totally private date. No one will ever know you were with me.”

I shoot a glance around the empty pickup area, wishing a crazed cameraman would spring from one of the manicured bushes, giving me an out.

No such luck. The world could give two shits that I’m talking to Dalton Ward in a very public space.

The list of excuses I’ve been ticking down is quickly dwindling.

With a point to my ruined pants, I try one last Hail Mary. “I can’t go anywhere like this.”

“I’m betting a well-planned girl like you has another pair of jeans, if not an entire outfit, in that black bag of yours. If not, we can stop by your place on the way.”

There is no way in hell I’m letting Dalton know where I live and damn if he’s not right. I do have another outfit packed. I frown, earning a lopsided grin.

“You can change in the car, if you want. Windows are tinted.” Dalton gestures to the SUV and the man standing outside of it who opens the door. “We’ll wait outside.”

I debate walking right past the men and heading for the street. Dalton couldn’t risk following me out in front of the cameras, or at least I hope he wouldn’t.

As if reading my mind, he squashes that thought. “I’ll follow you out there. You have way more to lose from leaked photos than I do at this point. I can make a public scene if you want a scene. Or you can get in the car and we can enjoy a day together. Privately.”

His smile widens as I head for the SUV. “Good choice, forty-eight.”

I’m pretty sure he can hear the string of insults and curses I’m slinging under my breath. I hope he does.

“Charles, this is my date for the day, Jenna. Jenna, Charles.” Dalton kicks off the introduction.

“Nice to meet you, miss.” The portly man, probably in his late fifties with kind eyes and graying hair, tips his cap. He must notice my hesitation, quickly adding, “Don’t worry about the name sharing. Mr. Ward and I have a strict NDA. Your name is safe with me. Think of me as Fort Knox.”

He winks, zipping and locking his lips like a grade school kid. A trickle of relief filters in, making me feel the tiniest bit better. Sort of.

The driver shuts the door with a snap and the noises of the city vanish as stress binds its way around my chest, squeezing while I blunder through the options.

Did I want to go on this date? Yes… and no.

The idea of spending an entire day with Dalton is more than appealing.

It’s downright sinful. Our non-date last night was the most relaxed I’ve been, the most connected I’ve felt to someone in months.

Months! Even with his crazy ex making an All-Star appearance.

AND this is a date I don’t have to swipe right on.

It will be the lowest pressure date of my entire life.

We can skip the awkward introductions, the judgy once-overs.

Hell, the man’s mouth was on my nipple last night, so we’re definitely past the “hi my name is... I like dogs, books, and cheese” phase.

Is there chemistry? Duh. The memories of drinks shared in the dark booth, how laughter was easy with Dalton, the way his hands felt on me…

Wait, nope—still not thinking of that part. Even though I totally am. Damn it.

With a shake of my head, I shift to the negatives.

Ramona, my hero and the patron saint of my professional career, alone should make saying no a breeze.

Not to mention, we could be putting the charity event itself at risk if caught.

So why the hell am I struggling to say that simple two-letter word?

With a sigh, I flop back against the leather headrest. The lonely, sex-deprived voice at the back of my mind whispers encouragingly at my hesitation.

Dalton promised today would be anonymous.

And it’s not like we did anything illegal, technically speaking, just untoward.

There is no way for anyone to know I’m the event’s biggest bidder.

On paper, Jenna Grant wasn’t even at the event and bidder forty-eight paid in full.

The flutter in my chest, telling me I deserve a personal day off, isn’t helping.

and the internal voice urging me to say yes sounds a lot like my cousin.

After all, this is not a relationship-seeking date.

It is an escapism one-day pamper fest with a hot man chaperone in the name of charity.

Only an idiot would say no. Resigning to the unreasonable, carefree Jenna, whom I never let out of her cage, I pop the door open, startling the men waiting outside.

Dalton eyes my unchanged outfit, eyebrow raised. “Everything okay?”

I hold up a palm, cutting him off. “No strings?”

“No strings.” He nods somberly.

“Same agreement applies. After today?—”

“We forget each other.”

“Clean slate. Neither person feels indebted or judged or owed.”

“Clean slates.” He agrees.

“No one can ever know.”

“You’ll be a ghost.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Ward.”

“Trust me, regret is not on the guest list tonight.” Damn that gorgeous smirk of his.

“Give me a minute to change.” With a forced eye roll, I shut the door in his face and begin digging through the bag for my backup jeans, a smile forming. For once in my life, I’m putting myself first. Boss babe Jenna, move over. We’re taking a day off to go on a dream date with a hot hockey god.

I’m just shimmying out of my pants when there’s a rough knock on the door. Before I can reply, it pops open and Dalton is jumping inside, slamming the door behind him with my half-naked self on full display.