“You sound like my brother, you know that?”
“I don’t care who—whom—I sound like. How the hell can you go on a date? Wait. Time-out. Tell me you’re going to get dressed up, sit in your room, and do a virtual date on your computer. That’s it, right?” That still sucks.
She shook her head. “No. I’m out of quarantine now—it’s been over two weeks since I got sick. In fact, you can be out too, I think, so if you wanted to date some of your models …”
Why did it bother the shit out of him that she was okay with him dating anyone? Shaken to the core, nothing made sense to him right now, and he didn’t have the time or temperance to unravel it. Eyes closed, he shook his head. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold up a minute. Where are you gonna go? No restaurants are open.”
“Um, he’s cooking dinner. Or ordering takeout. I’m not sure which.”
His eyes flew open and fixed on hers. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
She seemed to size him up warily. Slowly, she shook her head.
He cinched his arms across his chest and tried to puff it up a few sizes. “Who is this guy? How did you meet him?” he blurted, unable to stop himself. Holy crap, was he really going there? Yeah, because he had first dibs. She was his.
Goddamn.
When had he started thinking of her as his? And was this ownership of the she’s-my-sister variety? Or was it of the caveman she’s-my-woman variety? While he didn’t know that he had a right to the first scenario, he sure as hell didn’t have a right to the second one, and the buzzing in his brain wouldn’t help him sort it out anytime soon. This was brand new territory for him, and he didn’t like being here. He wanted back on familiar ground where he didn’t give a shit what a woman he was lusting after did in her spare time. He vaguely registered that when it came to Sarah, though, this whatever-it-was went way beyond lust.
Sarah casually brushed at her sleeve. “I met him online.”
Now the buzzing in Quinn’s head erupted, shooting his blood pressure into the stratosphere. Control slipped from his grasp. “What? Don’t tell me you used a dating app!”
Amused eyes pierced his. Clearly she was enjoying herself. “Okay. I won’t tell you I used a dating app.”
Fucking fuck!
He mustered his best authoritative voice. “Sarah. This is nota good idea.”
In a move that totally flustered him, she patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, Sparky. He’s Natalie’s brother, Drew, and it’s a blind double date. Well, my part—and his too, I suppose—is blind, but not the double date part. Natalie and T.J. will be there.” She beamed at him, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
This just got better and better. Goddamn Shanstrom was still pissed about the press conference, wasn’t he? And this was his jacked-up way of getting even.
Quinn narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said you met him online?”
“I did. Natalie introduced us, we had a FaceTime session, and I decided, what the hell? Voila! Blind double date.” When he didn’t respond, she smirked. “Voila is French for ‘ta-dah!’”
As he watched her sashay away, it occurred to him that she’d been right. He’d been totally full of himself, deluded by the ease with which he’d picked up random women in bars for far too long. Because when it came to this particular woman, not only did “pick up” sound far too crass, but he had absolutely no clue how to move the puck to the goal line.
Sarah smudged smoky eyeliner under her lower lashes and stood back from the bathroom mirror. “Meh,” she said to her reflection before she applied lipstick. While she wasn’t going for knock-’em-dead, it was sort of fun to get dressed up after spending months in sweats, workout togs, and T-shirts. The dress-up clothes made her feel pretty, feminine, sexy, and she’d make the most of tonight. Drew seemed like a nice guy, but the date wouldn’t go anywhere. Tonight would simply be a welcome diversion. She’d get away from Quinn Asshat Hadley, the cocky bastard. So damn full of himself.
“This T-shirt is made for guys who actually don’t date models,” she told her reflection in a snippy voice. “Well, good for you, Romeo!”
Maybe she’d picked the wrong slogan, but jeez! He didn’t have to be such a jerk about it. At least show a little appreciation. And what was with that “Let’s change ‘models’ to ‘engineers’” quip? Nothing like taking an extra dig at her.
Asshole.
After dabbing perfume behind her ears, she slipped on her skyscraper heels and wobbled to Liz’s room. Archer followed, watching her with canine concern, as if he were angling for the best spot to catch her when her ankles folded and she came tumbling down. Heels had been a regular accessory for professional garb, but lately? Flats all the way, and she was out of practice.
A muffled “Come in” sounded behind Liz’s door when Sarah knocked, and she let herself in. Liz was propped up in her bed, legs stretched out in front of her, an e-reader in her hand. She set it down, lifted her glasses onto her head, and let out a loud whistle. “Look at you! Sarah, you are smoking!”
Sarah perched on the edge of her bed, suddenly self-conscious. “Is it too much?”
“Oh no, doll. You look fantastic. You’re gonna have that guy eating out of your hand—as soon as he stops drooling.” She let out a little sigh. “And Quinn’s gonna be eating his heart out.”
“No, he’s not!” Sarah scoffed a little too loudly. Why did Liz’s words set off a little flare of heat at Sarah’s core that rushed to her cheeks? “He won’t even know I’m gone. He’ll probably be catching up with his girlfriends. That’ll take all night.”
Liz shook her head. “I doubt it. He’s never been one for relationships. I have a feeling his family is partly to
