Save the Date

by R. J. Groves

  ‘Didn’t you want a drink?’ she said.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘But you didn’t have any,’ she pointed out. ‘I thought you wanted some now. If you’re finished with it, I wouldn’t mind another sip, I’m so—’

  Annoyed, he grabbed the cup and took a long drink from it. Then he remembered how her lips had looked wrapped around the straw … and wondered whether or not she backwashed. He purposefully put the cup on his left side—away from her—and focused back on the movie. He could feel her eyes still on him, and wondered how childish he’d looked by doing that. He felt childish. He took a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth. He heard her huff and registered her turning back to the movie.

  He wished it didn’t make him feel bad, not letting her have more of his drink. Truth was, he was totally pushing his limits by even having a drink after she had. He never even shared drinks with people he had been intimate with. Certainly never on something business related. He’d seen lots of people share drinks, regardless of who they were with. And there wasn’t a shortage of it on dates or between friends. But Andie was neither of those.

  It might seem unusual that he didn’t like to share his food—or drinks—but it’s the way he was. He wasn’t sure if there was an exact point when it started, or if he’d always been like that. But he wasn’t going to change something he’d done forever. Especially not for business. He glanced over at the couple a few rows in front and to the right of them.

  The cinema was quiet—for this movie, at least, which he could understand. There were three other couples in the room and a group of giggling girls up the back. The couple he was looking at were shamelessly sharing all the food and drinks they had. He glanced back at the girls. Hell, even they were sharing everything. And the other two couples seemed to be sharing their saliva in more ways than one. He scrunched up his nose and focused back on the movie. He swallowed the mouthful of popcorn and reached for more.

  Thank God he’d looked down.

  He wasn’t sure how he’d go if he’d actually touched Andie. And since her hand was in the box … He glanced over at her. She was still watching the movie. He waited for her hand to move back towards her mouth and shifted the box to the seat next to him, taking a handful of the popcorn as he did.

  He focused back on the movie and nibbled on the popcorn. Beside him, he noticed that Andie had stopped chewing. She must have noticed he’d moved the box away from her, too. He frowned. How much of a jerk did she think he was? Surely she could understand it was simply something he didn’t like to do. She rolled the sleeves of her cardigan down and pulled it tight against her chest. Cold, he assumed. He crossed his arms over his chest to stop himself from giving a damn.

  He froze when something touched his leg. Then it moved. He lowered his eyes to his lap, only to see her hand patting around distractedly—searching for the popcorn, he assumed. Something actually intriguing happened in the movie and her hand stopped moving. Right on his—

  He shot his gaze towards her in time to see her eyes widen, her expression almost … terrified? Even in the glow of the big screen, he could tell her skin had paled, her breathing had become shallow, and her eyes? Well, they were wide, and they were looking at the screen. But she certainly wasn’t watching it. So, the wench had realised where, exactly, her hand had landed.

  He felt an uncontrollable twitch below the belt and cursed under his breath. Trust his body to betray him now … He leaned closer. ‘Andie?’

  ‘Mmm?’ she hummed. It sounded forced and high-pitched. Another twitch, damn it. Her eyes widened further.

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Mind what?’ Yep. Definitely high-pitched.

  ‘Your hand,’ he forced out.

  She quickly withdrew her hand and crossed her arms over her chest, digging her hands into her sides. She still hadn’t looked at him. He watched her not watching the movie for a moment. She was uncomfortable, clearly. It would make anyone uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how long it took for her to start relaxing, even just slightly. He hoped it wasn’t too long, because he’d been watching her until then.

  She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, and he was sure he saw a blush creep onto her cheeks. She stared back at the movie for a few more seconds, then peeked at him again. This time, she turned slightly towards him. ‘Why are you watching me?’

  He shrugged. Better than the movie, he supposed. ‘Just wondering if you found what you were looking for.’

  Which was not what he’d wanted to say.

  But what could he say? That he was fascinated by the way the glow of the big screen highlighted certain features that he found attractive? Or that he was still trying to convince a certain part of his anatomy that the attention was entirely accidental?

  Her head spun fully towards him. She was frowning. Glaring, even. ‘No,’ she said flatly.

  Not yet, he thought, turning back towards the movie.

  He frowned at the unintended thought. This was, after all, business, not pleasure. And he needed to remember that. Hell, he needed to force his body to remember that, since, at the moment, he and his body seemed to be two entirely different entities.

  Then again, she’d turned this date into something that had very little to do with business.

  Chapter 7

  Andie stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Thank God the movie was finally over. She couldn’t even begin to describe how mortified she’d felt. She’d. Touched. Him. Him! As in, not just him—any part of him—but … him.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath, which only made her feel as though she was going to vomit. Oh, God. What would he think of her? The one time she didn’t look where her hand was going before it was too late. She’d just assumed …

  Popcorn.

  That’s all she’d wanted.

  Her damn stomach had been rumbling and aching and craving for that delicious burger at the restaurant. And in a moment of excitement in the movie, she’d reached out without thinking and … touched him.

  So much for making sure this date went horribly wrong.

  No doubt, she’d probably only succeeded in coming across as some desperate hussy—which she totally was not. She pushed off the sink that she’d been leaning against and reached for some paper towels, drying her hands and dabbing her armpits, hoping that she wouldn’t end up with sweat stains on her grey cardigan. God, she felt like she was sweating up a nervous storm. It was bad enough having to sit near the guy for the rest of the movie. She’d successfully avoided eye contact with him walking out of the cinema and managed to utter nothing except that she desperately had to go to the ladies’ room—more embarrassment, now that she looked back on it. But now …

  Now she had to make small talk with him while he drove her home—or wherever else he was going to drag her to. And she just wasn’t sure she could do that. Not after …

  She glanced at herself in the mirror again, noting the fact that her cheeks were flushed and she looked somewhat of a nervous wreck. Her mind drifted to her accidental groping of his manhood and how he hadn’t reacted immediately. Well, part of him had reacted immediately, but the rest of him … He’d given her a chance to redeem herself and she … froze. There was no other way to describe it. She wasn’t sure she could say she’d ever frozen like that. Then again, she’d never accidentally felt up a guy.

  Her cheeks darkened in a fresh blush. She’d felt him move. She’d felt him harden beneath her hand and it … well, she didn’t know what. There was so much going on in her head, yet she didn’t know what she thought. Her mind had been in total and utter chaos. And having to sit next to him for another agonising forty-five minutes was torture. She’d felt his gaze on her. She’d debated simply getting up and leaving, and why hadn’t she? Her pride, she supposed. What little part of it remained, anyway.

  And now, what would he expect of her?

  ‘Hot date, honey?’

  Andie blinked at the mirror and shifted her gaze to the side of her to meet th
e gaze of an older woman—ten years older than her, maybe.

  ‘Excuse me?’ she stammered.

  The woman gave her a knowing smile. ‘The look on your face,’ she said, grabbing a paper towel to dry her hands. ‘I’ve seen it before. Let me guess, you’re debating how much to give him on your first date?’

  She felt her blush deepen and busied herself with washing her hands again. God, no matter how much she washed her hands she just couldn’t seem to wash away the memory of the feel of him. Hot. Hard. Oh, God. ‘I think we’re beyond that,’ she muttered.

  The woman halted. ‘Oh, I’m sorry if I misread. It just looked like you had first-date jitters.’

  She squeezed her eyes shut, then glanced up at the woman, an apologetic look on her face. ‘No, you’re right,’ she said. ‘It is the first—and only—date.’

  The woman smirked. ‘That bad, is he?’ Andie gave an indifferent shrug. ‘Well, good luck, then. Hopefully he’s not a stalker.’

  Andie laughed half-heartedly and left the bathroom while the woman fussed over her hair. She paused just outside the door and scanned the room for him. She felt her chest tighten when she found him. He hadn’t noticed her. He was looking at his phone. She jumped as the woman’s voice sounded in her ear again.

  ‘That’s him?’

  ‘Mmm,’ she hummed, burying the twisting in her stomach and already feeling her body working up a nervous sweat again. The woman let out a hum of delight and Andie lifted an eyebrow at her.

  ‘Well,’ the woman said, winking at her. ‘I wouldn’t mind him stalking me, that’s for sure. Good luck, honey—whatever it is you’re planning.’

  This time, the woman left and caught up with a group of giggling ladies. Andie bit her lip. Oh, God knew she’d need the luck. She needed something to protect herself, after all. Even though she wasn’t sure which direction she wanted this to go.

  She swallowed, shaking the thoughts of him from her mind, and took steady confident steps towards him. She just had to get home, that’s all. Then their deal would be over. And she’d hopefully never have to see him again. Never. Ever. Ever.

  She wasn’t sure why she felt both relieved and disappointed at that realisation.

  He looked up when she reached him, and she dropped her gaze quickly. God, she still couldn’t look at him. She busied herself with checking that everything was in her purse.

  ‘Ready to go?’ he said.

  His voice vibrated through her in a way she didn’t know a voice could. She simply nodded, knowing that if she spoke, she’d probably sound nervous. She sure as hell felt it. He gestured with his hand for her to go in front of him, and she did, feeling his gaze resting on her. The fine hairs at the base of her neck prickled.

  She smirked at the lady’s suggestion about him being a stalker. He wouldn’t make a good stalker, she decided, since she would know every time he was watching her from the prickling all over her skin. They soon reached his car and he held the door open for her before he climbed into the driver’s seat. They drove in silence. She was grateful for the radio playing in the background. She tried her best not to look at him—she couldn’t. She knew he would be able to tell if she turned to face him, and she knew that meeting his eyes with hers would simply make her feel more embarrassed. God, why hadn’t she looked where she’d been putting her hand in the cinema?

  She tucked her arms close to her sides, then, feeling awkward, placed them in her lap and started picking at her fingernails. Then, deciding it was a bad habit, she twisted her hands together, holding them tight and … awkwardly. Damn it. Why couldn’t she find any position that didn’t feel awkward?

  He cleared his throat and she hazarded a glance at him from her peripherals. The bastard was smiling. A true and proper smirk. She sighed sulkily, tucking her hands back against her side. Well at least someone was finding her most embarrassing moment amusing.

  ‘What?’ she huffed, risking a better look.

  ‘Nothing.’ He was still smirking. She glared at him, but he didn’t continue. She focused back on the road ahead of them. He was pulling into her street, thank God. She felt her jaw clench when he spoke again. ‘Just that … there’s no popcorn here, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

  She shot her gaze back towards him, certain that her eyes could just about set him on fire. ‘Excuse me?’

  He glanced at her hands that were back in her lap, twisted together. She hadn’t even noticed she’d moved them again. ‘You keep moving your hands like you don’t know what to do with them. I’m just letting you know there’s no popcorn in the car.’

  Her eyes narrowed further. Well … if he wasn’t driving, she might have slapped him for that. She considered how bad it would be if she did anyway. He rolled the car to a stop and she sighed in relief. She was home. In a few short moments, she would be free of him, never to deal with him again. Hopefully. Considering the payment had been made, he’d have no need to come back into the shop again.

  ‘I suppose it would really be inappropriate to offer you the money again now, wouldn’t it?’

  Her mouth dropped open in horror. Was he solely intent on making sure she suffered from her mistake? He was acting like … like … a child! A man—a gentleman—certainly wouldn’t be bringing it up to embarrass her further. She took a shaky breath. ‘Thank you for the evening, Mr Ballin. It was … interesting.’

  The smile dropped from his face at the formality. ‘We’ve been through this, Andie,’ he started.

  She turned towards him. ‘Yes, we have,’ she said flatly. ‘This was a business deal. And I’m sure we can agree that both sides of the agreement have been met.’

  ‘Well, if that’s what you call business,’ he started.

  She glared at him, but she couldn’t help the hurt that made its way inside her. ‘It was accidental,’ she retorted. ‘And it’s your own fault, really. You’re the one that moved the popcorn.’

  ‘Well, excuse me for not wanting to share my food. I did offer to get you some before we went in but no, clearly, you needed mine.’

  She blinked. So, he didn’t like to share his food? Was he actually a child in a man’s body? Her thoughts drifted to the manly part of him that had burned itself into her palm and left her with a pulsing scar. Well, there was certainly nothing childish about that. He was staring out the windshield, his jaw clenched. Tense. Had it really annoyed him that much?

  She could see the hard planes of his face highlighted by the streetlight. His square jaw, his defined features. His stubble shadowed his jaw in a way that made him look both commanding and solemn. Worn. His broad shoulders seemed tense, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And maybe he did. He had, after all, just paid a hefty price for a wedding dress. For his sister.

  Then again, he could just be a very good actor. Joseph had been. And she wasn’t going to be fooled by that play again. She swallowed and lifted her jaw in an effort to regain her composure. Well, what was left of it.

  ‘You should be happy, then,’ she said, opening the car door. ‘You’ll never have to share food with me again, since our deal has come to a conclusion.’

  She pulled herself out of the car and made an effort to slam the door and storm towards her house as quickly as she could. She registered his door closing behind her and groaned. Why couldn’t he just let it be? It’s not like she needed someone to walk her to her door. She was quite capable of walking herself. In fact, she was quite capable of a lot of things. She heard his footsteps following behind her and she took a shaky breath, digging her hand in her bag to find her keys. Damn it. Why was it so difficult to find them when she needed them quickly? Oh, how she needed to put some distance between them.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that, Andie,’ he said.

  She could have sworn it was almost a growl. It certainly made her hairs stand on end. Or perhaps that’s because he sounded a lot closer than she’d thought he was. But his tone … He’d spoken loud enough for her to hear it, but not loud enough to ca
use a scene. She kept burying her hand in her bag. Keys. She needed her keys. Then she could let herself inside and slam the door in his face and never have to see him again. It would be good for her. To never see him again. Wouldn’t it?

  ‘Andie,’ he repeated, clearly trying to get her attention. If that wasn’t exasperation in his voice, she didn’t know what was.

  Her hand finally closed around her keys at the same time as his hand grasped her arm and turned her to face him. She felt her blood boil. She couldn’t quite place why she was so angry at him. Sure, he was a jerk. But she’d wanted—needed—that date to go horribly wrong. And, as far as she could tell, it had. Though not how she’d first planned. So why was she the one that seemed most annoyed? Maybe it was her body’s way of protecting her.

  Or maybe she’d secretly hoped the date would actually go well.

  No.

  She couldn’t think like that.

  She pulled the keys out of her bag and glared up at him. God, he was much taller than she remembered from their first meeting. Though she’d been wearing heels then, and now her shoes were about as flat as flat could be. She lifted her chin again.

  ‘You don’t have to defend yourself, Taylor. If you don’t want to share your food, fine. It’s not as though popcorn is a food that’s meant to be shared.’ Aww, hell. It was just about dripping with sarcasm and she knew it. Clearly, he noticed, too.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You planned it.’ He chuckled, shaking his head and looking to the side of them. She felt her stomach clench.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  He looked back at her, his expression stern and … and, what? He looked like he’d caught her and discovered what her little game was. And he had, in a way. He took a step forward and she felt his presence fill the air around her. His face was very close to hers. She swallowed.

  ‘You sabotaged the date.’

  She scoffed—a pointless effort at hiding the truth. ‘Oh, please,’ she said. ‘Why would I need to sabotage it?’