His Pretend Fiancee. Victoria Pade
an index finger that had trailed down the inner side of her ankle, along the arch of her foot and around of each of her toes. About the tip of his nose dipping into the hollow of her throat, using her collarbone as a guide to her naked shoulder and the perfect spot for soft kisses…
“Behave yourself,” she said, unsure whether the warning was more for him or for herself. “So what’s the ‘something else’ you had to talk to me about?” she asked to put this conversation more on the up-and-up.
Michael’s smile turned into a grin that made her wonder if he somehow knew the path down which her mind had wandered. But he didn’t say anything about that. Instead he complied with her demand to know what the something else was. “I announced our engagement to my mother this morning,” he said.
“Ah. How did that go over?”
He took another drink of his wine and shrugged before he said, “She was suspicious at first, but then she warmed to the news. The problem is, she wants us to go to her house for dinner tomorrow night so she can meet you.”
“Why is that a problem?” Josie asked.
Michael smiled again, dimpling up for her in a way that was like putting a hairdryer to an ice cube when it came to her resolves. “I was afraid you might have plans or not want to meet her so soon,” he confessed.
“No, I don’t have any plans. And since I’ll need to meet your mother sooner or later, it might as well be sooner.”
“So I can let her know we’ll be there?” he said, sounding relieved.
“Sure.”
“Well, you made that easy. Thanks.”
For a moment Michael studied her as if she were too good to be true, and the warmth of those vibrant green eyes was like basking in spring sunshine.
It was also the way he’d looked at her at times over Labor Day weekend.
Just before he’d kissed her.
And once again a rash of memories flooded her mind and tormented her.
Only this time even thinking about toenail clippings wasn’t enough to stop it and she knew she had better retreat to the solitude of her own room before the torture got any worse.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I should go upstairs and put some of those clothes into the closet so I can get to bed tonight,” she said suddenly.
It seemed to surprise him somewhat because his eyebrows arched and pulled together at once, as if he wasn’t quite sure what had brought that on. But how could he know, after all, when Josie was likely the only one of them thinking about kissing.
She stood and took her empty glass to the dishwasher before he guessed what was going through her head.
“Yeah, I’d better give my mother a call before I forget about it,” he said to her back, sounding a bit baffled.
“I’ll let you get to that, then,” she said, tapping her thigh twice as a signal to Pip to follow her from the corner where the big dog was lying.
“I probably won’t see you again before I go to bed, so good night,” she said, when the mastiff was by her side.
“If you need anything—”
“I’ll find it,” she assured him, calling Pip to follow her and leaving Michael sitting at the kitchen table.
But even as she climbed the stairs to the upper level again she was still thinking about kissing him.
About him kissing her.
And there was one very big problem with that.
She wasn’t only thinking about it in the past tense.
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