Page 35 of The Cupcake Standard

“Marry me?”

I laughed, hoping he was just kidding. “Jumping the gun a bit there, aren’t you?”

He shook his head adamantly. “Anyone who can put my mom and my sister in their place like that deserves to be a part of the family. Can you imagine what my holidays would be like if you came to all of them?” He put his hands together. “Please? Pretty please?”

I pushed him away, stuck my nose in the air, and held out my hand. “I never consider proposals after someone tries to feed me snails. Now take me home.” His chuckle made me smile.

“Yes, ma’am.” He took my hand, helping me down the steps to where Greg waited. As we neared the open door, Derek leaned toward me. His words were heartfelt, warming me to my core. “Thank you.”

Chapter Seven

When we climbed in, I chose the rear-facing seat, keeping the divider down. Derek gave me a questioning look, so I said, “I owe Greg an explanation since he’s the reason I got the books.”

We spent the ride regaling Greg with our awful time. “Oh, and speaking of delicious”—Derek paused to slide an arm around me—“Cupcake, here, didn’t get dessert.”

I arched my eyebrow at the nickname but ignored it. “Or real food.” I put a hand to my stomach, pretending to faint from hunger.

Derek laughed at my antics. “Those snails didn’t do it for ya?”

I wrinkled my nose.

A slow smile spread across Derek’s face, and he sat on his knees, cupping his hand to whisper to Greg. The chauffeur smiled, too, then made a few quick turns.

The only one left in the dark was me. “Where are we going?”

Derek’s fingers played with the slit of my dress, and he smirked. “Well, we can’t let that dress go to waste. You deserve to be seen.”

My cheeks heated, and I was grateful for the darkness. A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of a quiet but elegant-looking restaurant called Maria’s. A frown crossed my face as I watched Greg exit the limo.

“Don’t worry,” Derek said, mistaking my concern for anxiety. “You’ll fit right in.”

I was quick to set him straight. “It’s not me I’m worried about. I’ve already tied Greg up for most of the day. What if he’s got better things to do on his Saturday night?” Derek’s blue eyes drilled into me so long, I squirmed. “What?”

“I have never been out with a girl in my entire life that has shown one ounce of concern for the hired help. Even after realizing he’s a friend of mine. Now you have to marry me.” Thankfully he didn’t wait for an answer, disappearing out of the open door.

My heart stuttered at what I hoped was his teasing, and I told myself to calm down. We’re just playing. Though I may have flashed my lacy stocking while exiting, just for Derek’s benefit.

He grinned before turning to our driver. “Greg, I’ll leave it up to you. Avery is concerned we may be keeping you from your plans, so I have a few options, any of which work for us. One, we find our own way home. Two, you pick up your hot date and whatever meal you want, provided you’re able to be back here within fifteen minutes of my text. Or, three, you hang out here, doing whatever it is you do, and we send you a menu to order from, then you take us home when we’re ready.”

Greg’s surprised gaze flicked to me for a minute before shifting back to Derek. “Option three is more than generous.”

I laid a hand on Greg’s arm. “Only if you promise to order dessert, too.”

His gray eyes twinkled. “For you, Miss Avery, anything.”

Derek’s hand was warm on my back as he escorted me in, opening doors. The rich, wooden floors gave it a homey feel, but the zigzag molding on the ceiling along with the combination of soft, glowing orbs and sleek white track lighting provided a more modern atmosphere. The dark leather of the booths brought out the dark grain of the floor and the cream chairs around the tables felt chic. I smiled as the hostess led us to a circular booth where Derek slid all the way over so he was next to me.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Hi.”

One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Just wanted to keep an eye on that stocking situation.” His gaze darted down to the slit in my dress, safely below my lace line at the moment.

“I see. That’s a secret weapon I only use for special occasions.” A thrill went through me at his casual flirting.

The waiter chose that moment to appear with our thick menus and cloth wrapped silverware. “I’m Landon, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

Derek’s expression changed completely. He was all Elgin now. “Yes, we’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey and two glasses. Please tell the chef that Derek Elgin is here, and I expect to be amazed this time.” His tone dripped with superiority.

I blinked at Derek in confusion, at his abrupt shift in demeanor as well as his demanding alcohol. Drinking on private property is one thing, but in public? I still wasn’t twenty-one. I didn’t even have a fake ID. And what’s up with the asshole act?

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