Page 22 of That Kind of Guy

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure? I’m serious about this, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ll be fine. If you make me uncomfortable, I’ll let you know.”

He leaned back in his chair, balancing his ankle on his knee, regarding me. “There’s one more thing. I need a pair of your underwear.”

I choked on my wine, nearly spitting it out onto Emmett’s couch. “What? Why?”

He grinned devilishly. “You’ll see.”

I shook my head. “So people can catch you sniffing them? No, thanks.”

His devilish grin widened. “My brothers are always over at my place. What better way to sell them on us than them finding evidence of us getting it on?”

I gagged. “Never saygetting it onandusin the same sentence ever again.”

He looked at me expectantly.

“A sock,” I relented. “I’ll give you a sock.”

He put his hands up. “We’ll work our way up to underwear. Buy the nice stuff instead of whatever three-pack budget brand you wear.”

My mouth fell open. “I donotwear budget underwear.”

His mouth hitched again and he raised his eyebrows, watching me. “Oh, yeah? Tell me more about your underwear. This is great practice.”

My face heated, and I took another long slug of wine. “Is it a bad sign that I’m regretting this so early on?”

He laughed. “Eye on the prize, Adams. You’ll get your restaurant soon enough.”

He was right. The restaurant deal was a sure thing for me, but there was no guarantee for Emmett. I cocked my head at him.

“What if you don’t win?”

He leaned on the armrest of his chair, smiling at me. “I will.”

“I just want to make sure that if you don’t win, because people see through your extra-schmoozey smiles and faux questions of concern, my deal isn’t going to fall through.”

He glanced out the window. “I’m going to win.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at me. “And as my girlfriend, you’re going to need to believe that I’m going to win, too, otherwise no one in this town will buy this.” He gestured back and forth between us. “But let’s say some meteor hits Queen’s Cove, wipes out the entire population except for the Andersons, and I don’t win.”

I held back a grin. I wouldnotlaugh, mostly because I didn’t think he was actually joking.

“You’ll still get your restaurant.” He shrugged. “I know you’re good for the money. You have too much pride.”

The sun was setting, and the warm light caught his grey eyes and gave his skin a golden hour glow. He watched me with a knowing look, like he could see beneath my skin. The back of my neck prickled. I didn’t like how naked I felt when he looked at me like that.

But a tiny, minute fraction of medidlike it. I brushed that feeling aside as fast as I could.

“So, after the election, we tell everyone we’ve broken up,” I tell him.

He nodded. “I figured we’d stop going on dates—”

“Public appearances,” I corrected.

“We’d stop going on public appearances, and then after a month or two, break the news that we had broken up.”

“We should tell people that we’ve been together for a while and wanted to keep it secret,” I mused.

His eyes lit up. “Great idea.”

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