Sarah Mayberry - Her Secret Fling

“There’s a steak place up the road,” he said.

He hadn’t doubted her for a moment, the smug bastard.

“This is only because I’m hungry and they don’t have room service,” she said.

“It’s all right. I didn’t think you were about to propose because you agreed to have dinner with me.”

He was deliberately echoing her words from during their ill-fated breast discussion. She couldn’t help it—she cracked a smile.

“You are such a smart-ass,” she said.

“You’re no slouch yourself.”

“No, I’m strictly amateur hour compared to you. You’re world-class.”

They started walking toward the glowing roadside sign for Lou’s Steakhouse.

“Now you’ve made me nervous,” he said.

“Sure I have.”

“You have. World-class—that’s a lot to live up to. You’ve given me performance anxiety.”

“I bet you’ve never had performance anxiety in your life.”

“That was before I met you.”

She became aware that she was still smiling and slowing her steps, dawdling to prolong their short walk to the restaurant. She frowned, suddenly uneasy. She looked at him and saw that he was watching her, an arrested expression on his face. As though, like her, he’d just realized that they were enjoying each other’s company.

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