Page 33 of Prince Charming

Since becoming friends, he made sure she knew she could use the office phone whenever she wanted to call home. Grateful to him, she couldn’t find the words to express that gratitude. She worked extra hard instead, making sure there was never an issue in the gym. And when she uncovered Tag’s sweet tooth, she baked cookies for him every morning.

Because he coerced her into celebrating his Thanksgiving, she took several pies and watched him fall on them like a hungry animal. The gratitude in his smile rolled her stomach with longing.

Days and days passed. Turning into December, she was sure this friendship thing would pass as a trend. Men throughout history were known for their tiny attention span when sex was off the table.

Tag proved her wrong again and again.

Most nights he was at her door with food, or they’d cook together, and then watch TV. He helped with her English and laughed at her pronunciations. She got her own back when she taught him a few Russian words.

God, his voice.

It was a grave mistake listening to her own language coming out of his mouth.

Some days he came to the gym with dinged up knuckles. She knew it wasn’t from his martial arts training. Was his MC involved in dangerous activities?

Somehow he’d sneaked beneath her defenses and made her care about him.

Who was she kidding! He’d scaled the walls and planted his flag.

“Earth to Marianna.” Snapping back from her thoughts, he was throwing her a toothy grin from the driver’s side of his truck. “Where were you? You didn’t hear a word I said.”

“Sorry. What did you say?” She anxiously picked the seam of her skinny jeans.

“I was saying you don’t have to look so nervous.”

It was still a mystery how he’d talked her into going to the bar to meet up with his friends and their wives. Goddamn his wizarding persuasion.

You’ll have a good time, Anna.

No, I won’t.

We’re going, that’s that.

Okay, fine.

“I think… I think.”

“Don’t say it. It’s only for a few hours, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Marianna’s nervous sigh was gusty. How could she explain to him how guilty she felt?

His eyes, steadfast as always. He wasn’t a man who flittered his gaze to look at other women. When Tag looked at her, he was looking only at her. “I should not be enjoying myself.”

“Darlin’, explain what that means.”

“What kind of mother am I if I am enjoying myself when I don’t have my children here with me? That should be my only focus, Tag. This was a mistake, please can we go home?”

His sigh almost blew a breeze against the side of her face. Then his hand covered hers, squeezing gently. “You’re too fucking hard on yourself, darlin’. Tell me this, are your kids safe right now?”

“Da. Yes. I spoke to their carer only this afternoon.”

“And you’re doing what you can to get them here, yeah? That’s what you said.”

“Da. Yes.”

“Then a couple hours spent with a few people will change nothing. If your kids were here, I’d still persuade you to come out. Only then, we’d need a babysitter.”

Logically, she knew he was right. But it didn’t prevent the gnaw of guilt when they climbed out of the truck and walked into the lively bar. Tag placed his hand on the base of her back where her skin tingled. The table of friends was staring over. Heat hit her cheeks.

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