Page 15 of Single Daddy To Go

“No, I’ve never been married,” I tell him, blushing. “I don’t have any kids.”

“I’m sure you’d make an amazing mom,” he says, which makes me blush harder. I thought I’d overcome my shyness, but clearly I was wrong.

I’m grateful when the next round of drinks shows up.

“I... um... well, I can’t do that on my own, can I? I had a steady boyfriend in college, but that seems like ages ago. We broke up when we graduated because he was joining the Peace Corps in Poland.”

He raises an eyebrow again.

“Peace Corps, huh? Very interesting. But what about you? You haven’t dated much since coming to the city?”

I can feel my cheeks getting even hotter. I take a big sip of my drink. This one is legitimately sweet, with a rim of sugar instead of salt.

“No, I haven’t. Not that many men are interested in me.”

The confession is humiliating, and suddenly I feel about two inches tall. Unable to meet his eyes, I look at my lap, praying to disappear into the floor.

But Rob’s gaze narrows as he looks at me thoughtfully.

“Is that so?” he asks in a low voice. “That’s hard to believe. You’re so beautiful.”

What? It’s hard for me to believe that he thinks so.

“Stop it,” I say, barely able to look him in the eye.

“Why? It’s true.” The way he gazes at me, I have to trust his words, but it seems so alien. Other men don’t think that I’m beautiful. Other men don’t evennoticeme.

I let myself bask in his approval for a moment, but then images of Rob with all those other women crowd into the back of my mind. I think about bringing it up, but I don’t want to ruin everything. There’s no sense in letting him know that I stalked him before coming on this date. Instead, I tell myself to just enjoy what’s right here in front of me.

“Thanks,” I say simply, still not quite convinced but making the shape of it.

He looks me up and down.

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently?” he asks.

My first thought is to wonder whether my hair is out of place. My hand moves up reflexively to tame my curls.

“What it is?”

“Just you,” he grins. “Your eyes, your smile. Everything about you is gorgeous.”

He reaches for my face, stroking my curls. I touch his hand. I’m melting, far too turned on to say or do anything except lean into his touch. My head feels like it’s swimming. When he pulls his hand away, I realize that it’s not just the overwhelming power of his eroticism, but that I’m also feeling pretty tipsy.

Oh shit. I don’treallywant another round, but Rob orders one. We keep talking. I do my best to follow the conversation, but all I’m thinking about is how much I want him to touch me again. I feel elated, and happy just to be in his presence.

After the third round, he suggests taking a walk for some fresh air. I agree, enthusiastically, stepping down off the bar stool. My head is spinning, and it’s an effort just to make my legs work properly. I don’t usually wear heels either. I feel like I’m one of the toddlers, unsure of my own feet while wobbling here and there.

Rob opens the door for me like a proper gentleman, and then offers his arm for me to hold. I take it, feeling the hard muscle beneath the soft fabric of his suit jacket.

I don’t know if it’s the shock of the contact or just the alcohol, but either way, I trip over my heels and almost fall down on the sidewalk. If I wasn’t holding onto the billionaire, I’d probably face plant right here in front of the bar, but fortunately, he’s there to hold me up.

My heart races. Wow. That was almost a total disaster! I spin out the possibilities, imagining Rob having to take me to the hospital with a broken nose, bleeding all over his fancy clothes. I’m so relieved that I was holding his arm.

“Um, those drinks are strong,” I mumble, recovering myself. It occurs to me that I haven’t eaten dinner. I’m not a heavy drinker in any case and imbibing on an empty stomach is a recipe for overdoing it. Plus, I put away those cocktails pretty fast on account of my nerves.

“Well, they should be, at thirty bucks a pop.”

I feel embarrassed, spending his money on trendy cocktails only to get stumbling drunk. I hope he doesn’t hate me for it. “I’m sorry.”