Page 9 of The Temptation (Executive Suite Secrets #4)

PIERCE SUTTON

Throughout the entire drive to pick up Simon for dinner with my parents, my brain was listing all the ways this plan could and would blow up in my face.

Most of the items centered on Simon being far too clingy and unconvincing as someone I would date.

Not to mention the often outlandish things that came out of his mouth.

It didn’t matter when we were with Sebastian and Declan.

Hell, Rome was usually the instigator. But I didn’t need that nonsense around my rather stiff and all-too-proper parents.

If Simon couldn’t be convincing as someone that I would want to date, my parents would continue with their demands for me to move back to Boston.

And it didn’t appear as if we were going to start off on the right foot when I pulled up to Simon’s rental to find him standing outside in the fucking cold.

He hurried to the car before I could put it into park and yanked the door open. He threw himself into the warm interior and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Holy crap, it’s cold out!” He shuddered and thrust his hands up against the vents to warm them.

“Why were you waiting outside? I was happy to park and walk up to get you,” I snapped. “We’re not in that big of a rush to get to the restaurant.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Simon fumbled with the seat belt a few times, struggling to get it across his body, his fingers holding the latch as they were likely still frozen. “I was getting nervous waiting for you to arrive and thought the cold air would help clear my head.”

Some of my irritation oozed away, and I released a breath.

It was only now that I could take in his nice dark suit and pale-blue shirt that seemed to make his large blue eyes sparkle even more.

His usually messy blond hair was more tamed than usual, but not as severely styled as it was when he played before an audience.

Simon looked sophisticated without becoming stuffy and boring like me.

It went without saying that he was ridiculously handsome.

At least, I wasn’t going to say it out loud.

That would open the door to flirty comments that I didn’t want to dodge while focusing on the road.

I reversed out of the driveway and began our trek downtown. It was reassuring that he was taking this dinner seriously.

After a couple of minutes on the road, Simon sat up straight in his chair. “Okay, so I think it’s important to get our stories straight now. Is there a chance that your parents are going to know who I am?”

“As a world-famous violinist?”

“No!” Simon cackled, falling back against the soft leather seat. “I mean as Simon Miller, younger brother of Sawyer. Do they know any of your friends from college and such?”

“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled. That was true, and it wasn’t something I’d considered.

They’d met Sawyer once or twice while I was at Harvard.

They were well aware of his death. It had devastated me and left them worried about my mental and emotional state, all during my final year of undergraduate school.

Both of them had argued that I should take a year off and return later to finish my degree.

I’d pushed on out of some twisted idea of upholding family tradition and the grand Sutton heritage.

Now I knew I’d been running from my pain and had thought I could drown myself in my studies to block it all out.

Despite that rough past, I doubted they were aware of Simon, or at least not in any major way. “They know that you exist, but not in any great detail.”

“It’s probably a good idea that we stick as close to the truth as possible rather than risk it coming out later and tripping us up. We can say we lost contact over the years, but stumbled across each other after I moved to Cincinnati during the summer.”

“And what? We just started dating?” The idea sounded too far-fetched. How could I lose my mind enough to dare to date the little brother of my dead best friend? It was insane.

“ Ugh . Why do you have to be so difficult?” Simon groaned. “We talked for a while. Got reacquainted. Hung out. Had drinks. Then decided to go on a couple of dates. We’ll say this is only our third date. That work for you?”

I grunted. He made it sound as if I were the one being unreasonable.

This entire thing was unreasonable. I was going to be thirty-fucking-five this year.

My parents shouldn’t be able to back me into this ridiculous corner of forced dating.

The options for my career shouldn’t be limited based on whether I was married.

What the fuck was this? The fucking Victorian era?

Of course, if it were, I wouldn’t have a man sitting beside me posing as my significant other. At least we’d made some progress.

My parents had never had a problem with my being gay.

I came out to them my senior year of high school, and it seemed to take my parents five seconds to adjust all their plans for me, swapping out all the images of a bride at my side for ones of a groom.

Their ease of acceptance was appreciated, but I would have preferred it if they’d felt less concern about my love life overall.

“What do you think we did on our first date?” Simon prompted.

“No clue.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Simon glaring at me. His frustration was understandable. I wasn’t being all that helpful, and he was the one who was doing me a favor. Even if he might want to play the role of my boyfriend, it would have been nice of me to at least try to participate.

Without losing his cheerful tone, he continued, “Do you think it would have been a group date with Sebastian and Byron, or?—”

“No! Definitely not. My parents talk to Sebastian and his parents. We can’t risk Sebastian blowing this to kingdom come. When he’s excited, he doesn’t always think before his mouth runs.”

“That makes sense. I say you took me to the ballet on our first date. The Nutcracker .”

I nodded. That worked. I’d seen the Cincinnati Ballet perform The Nutcracker at the Aronoff several times.

We continued to debate different options for the second date as I drove from the suburbs to downtown Cincinnati.

The lights of the skyscrapers glowed ahead of us against a dark sky.

A soft hint of something warm and spicy teased my nose.

It took me a moment to realize that Simon’s cologne had gotten carried on the air blown out by the heater to my nose.

There was something so enticing and unique about that scent.

I couldn’t place it, and the smell only made me want to lean closer to him to get a better sniff.

Nope!

Not going to happen.

The kiss we’d shared at Declan’s was the end of my recklessness. It was not a line I was going to cross again.

I released a sigh of relief when we reached the parking garage and could get out of the car. The quaint Italian seafood restaurant I’d chosen was just a block away, but there was enough time to stretch my legs and rid myself of the nervous jitters before we saw my parents.

“Are you a hand-holder?”

My head jerked, and I gazed at Simon as he grinned at me. “What?”

“A hand-holder? PDA? When you’re dating someone, will you hold their hand in public?”

“Oh…I…no, not usually,” I stammered, spitting out an answer that was mostly true.

Part of me wanted to be the type of person who held the hand of their significant other.

I liked the idea of modest displays of affection in public.

They were quiet statements of togetherness and allowed me to be possessive in an acceptable fashion.

It was just that I’d never dated anyone who’d made me feel like I wanted to hold their hand.

Simon let out a huff. “I guess we both knew you couldn’t be totally perfect.”

My lips twitched, but I batted away the grin. I was far from perfect. “I take it you like to hold hands.”

“Yes, definitely. Hot, rich guy like you? I’ve got to stake my claim for all the other gold-diggers to see.”

I groaned and relaxed in time for us to reach the restaurant.

We stepped into the welcoming warmth and handed our heavy garments over at the coat check.

After a brief pause at the hostess stand, we were whisked into the crowded restaurant to a table where my parents were already seated.

As soon as my mother spotted us, she leaned in close to whisper to my father, and I could’ve sworn she said something about how young Simon looked.

Wonderful. That was a wonderful start. But her smile brightened as we reached the table and my father stood.

“Mother, Father, this is Simon Miller. Simon, these are my parents, Oliver and Rebecca Sutton,” I introduced, praying the evening would go smoothly.

Simon extended his hand and shook my father’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He took my mother’s hand, squeezing it as he made a shallow bow over her hand, and she giggled. “Now I understand where Pierce got his lovely eyes.”

“Oh goodness, you are so charming.”

“Being charming was the only way I could convince him to try dating me,” Simon stated. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me. Dear God, I was in trouble.

We slipped into the open seats across from my parents, and the server appeared to take our drink orders while we reviewed the menu.

My mother and Simon made polite chitchat about the weather until we placed our order for food.

As soon as the server took away our menus, my father shifted in his seat, and I swore I could feel him gearing up.

“Miller? Pierce, isn’t that the same last name as your old college friend?”

“Yes, Sawyer was my older brother,” Simon answered while I groaned inwardly. Could we begin with something easy? How did you meet? How long have you been dating? No, we had to go with the angle of the dead friend’s younger brother.

“Oh my,” my mother whispered.