Between Desire and Denial: A Fake Dating Romance (Hardy Billionaires)

Her honey-colored eyes twinkled at me as she smirked. “See. Jealous. You’re not telling me who I can and cannot go to lunch with, Dimitri.” Then she grabbed for her drink, but I swiped it away from her before waving the waitress over to hand her my card. “Bring her a water and close our tab.”

I wanted Olive at home in bed with me safe. I wasn’t about to divulge the information I’d learned from my brother and Bane earlier, but I knew now that I was going to be keeping a much closer eye on her. I didn’t regret placing security throughout the town or turning it on before it was approved. I’d break the law for the woman I loved. I wouldn’t regret it either.

“Water?” Olive lifted a brow.

“Might be pregnant, Honeybee.” I dropped each word with weight, trying to make her see how serious I was. “Means we should be avoiding alcohol and talking about a wedding, not a lunch date you’re not attending.”

She closed her eyes like she was trying to tamp down her frustration with me. And even as she sat there angry, I admired how the pink hue of her cheeks matched the red flower and red dress she had on. Fuck. I wanted to ravage her here in the bar.

She took a deep breath before she folded the napkin in front of her. “You know, as much as I didn’t want to think about having a kid, Dimitri, I did. I thought about it because you brought it up, and it actually made me contemplate the out-of-this-world commitment that would bring. Have you looked at my life?”

“Yes?” I answered, confused.

“But really considered it? Because, honestly, I’ve been avoiding things I care about for a long time. I left this place after my mom died, you know? Probably because I was so rooted here, and I didn’t want anything else to happen that would hurt me more. Then, I just sort of drifted until I found Rufford. I committed to him, right? And then … well, that didn’t work either. I don’t think I need more commitments. If I have them, I’ll just worry.”

“Worry about what?” I frowned.

“About you.” She looked away. “I always worry now. If I care this much now, what will it be later? What will I worry about then?”

“I’ll ask again … about what?”

“That you’ll find someone better than me,” she whisper-yelled. “That this won’t be enough. That I won’t be enough, and my heart will break so much it won’t be repairable.”

I reached for her hand to reassure her that that could never be the case, but she snatched her hand back. “No. Don’t console me about it. I hate that I can’t have the confidence or take the risk, but it’s gone.”

The waitress came over right then to hand me the check. She’d put little hearts and her number on it too. I saw how Olive’s eyes widened, and she blushed in jealousy and embarrassment that another woman was so blatantly hitting on me.

“Excuse me.” I stopped the woman and handed the tab back to the waitress. “Get me another bill. One without your number on it.” Then I shook my head, got my card out and murmured, “Matter of fact, just run the bill.”

The waitress stuttered out a sorry and hurried away.

She sighed. “See? I am perfectly justified to worry about things like this.”

“And see how I cull your worry right away? You better do the same with any man who approaches you,’ I told her as she reached into her purse to try and hand me some cash. I shook my head. “You’re not paying. It’s our first date.”

“It should be our last date.” She frowned as she pushed her curls from her face. “You have to accept that I’m not ready.”

“I’ll wait for you to be ready. In the meantime, I’ll be ready enough for the both of us.”

She scrunched up the napkin and met my gaze. “Dimitri, you know you’ll hate that. Especially when I still intend to Uber places, take cabs home, go on dates, go to lunches.”

The air swirled with the tension between us as I held her gaze. She was going to go head-to-head with me, I could tell. She didn’t know what she was up against.

“Try to take a cab home tonight. See how it works out for you.”

She stood right then. “I hope she brings your card soon.” Her smile was saccharine as she walked out, her hips swaying in that scarlet dress like a red flag in front of a bull. I was the bull.

And I wasn’t letting her leave without hitting my target.

I threw a hundred on the table and grabbed my card on the way out just as I saw her waving down a taxi.

I mumbled to the valet to get my car and walked up to her fast before she got in. There was no arguing with her at this point.

She wasn’t going to listen. She’d made up her mind, but I’d made up mine. So I bent and tucked my shoulder into her waist before scooping her up and over my shoulder. She screamed as I did it, but I said, “Don’t make a scene or you’ll be talking to the cops tonight.”

“You’re using freaking force to get your way?”

“And I always will when it comes to your safety, Honeybee,” I countered as I walked toward where the valet had pulled my car up to. He then opened the passenger door for me to throw her in.

“You’re the most ridiculous, stubborn—”

I slammed the door in her face and tipped the valet generously. He smiled and said to have a great night.

I rounded the front of the car and got in. She was still screaming. “And quite frankly, I bet Mr. Perfect would have been better in bed.”

I shifted the car into first and gunned it as I looked at her. “You and I both know that’s a lie. I fuck your pussy better than anyone because it’s mine. You were made for me. Don’t deny it.”

“Oh my God. Your ego is so stupidly big for no reason.” When we came to a stop sign, she yanked on the door handle. “Let me out.”

I didn’t even look at her. “You know I’m not going to.”

“If you don’t let me out of here, I’m going to roll down the window and scream,” she warned me. “It won’t be good for you around here and you know it.”

Didn’t she get that I didn’t care one bit about my reputation in Paradise Grove anymore?