Page 69 of Space Oddities

I feign interest in the television, moving the cursor through the list of international shows available. “Oh?”

“It has more to do with you, really.Us.”

My outstretched hand freezes, prompting a preview trailer to play for some Spanish thriller. I click off the television. “Us?” My eyes linger on the screen as I lower the controller.

“Yes.” Ian comes around to stand in front of me. “I had this great idea during the meeting at the NBL this morning.” He starts to pace but stops when he realizes he can only take two steps before he has to turn, his long legs eating up the furniture-filled room. Without the TV to distract me, I can appreciate just how good he looks, his light blue dress shirt tucked into his perfectly draped dress pants, showcasing a trim waist. He looks every inch of his upper-income self, even with his sleeves rolled up, showcasing an impressive amount of arm porn.

It’s hard to stay aloof. Especially when he takes my hands and pulls me to my feet, his blue eyes bright as they stare into mine.

“I’m taking you with me to Germany.” His blinding smile makes me blink.

My brain refuses to comprehend this.

Mistaking my surprise for excitement, he smiles wider, which I hadn’t thought possible. “When I go on the training trip for the Bartolomeo mission, I’ll take you with me.” He waits, like a proud puppy that finally learned to come when called.

“No.”

His smile dims. “Why not?” He lets go of my hands to gesture with his. “It’ll be Oktoberfest. Think of all the people-watching.” He tousles his hair again. “Maybe you could even write about it in one of your books.” When my expression doesn’t change, he finally frowns. “If it’s about the money, don’t worry. I already bought the plane ticket for the seat next to mine.” He shrugs. “True, I did buy it to give myself more room on the flight, but with you next to me I’m sure not to feel claustrophobic.” He waggles his brows at me. “You’ve already helped me with that before.”

Ah. There it is. The real reason. I should’ve known.

“I thought about upgrading the hotel, but then I thought a bed-and-breakfast would be more your style.”

Yes, five-star hotels aren’t fit for an ex-stripper. I bite my lip, chastising myself. In all fairness, Ian doesn’t know that. If he did…

Mentally I shake off the desire to come clean about my past. Now isn’t the time. I wasgoingto tell Ian, back before the fundraiser, before I realized how foolish I was for hoping we could be together. But now… now there’s no need.

I wait for Ian to finish his lengthy description of a vacation I will never take with him. The castles, the food. He tries pacing again, musing about extending the trip, perhaps taking a cruise down the Danube. All while I block out the guilt from what I’m about to do.

It’s time. I didn’t want to end it like this. Ishouldhave ended it at the Ritz Carlton’s parking lot and just gotten in Rose’s darn car. But I was weak, and now here we are, Ian somehow still thinking that after the slap in the face the fundraiser had been to me, that he and I are anus.

“No.” My voice cuts through his ramblings about German vineyards and sweet wine.

“No?” He laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “What? You don’t like Riesling?”

“I don’t even know what that is, but sure, probably. I mean, Iama bed-and-breakfast girl after all.”

That brings him up short. “What?”

Okay, that may have been a bit childish. “Never mind.”

“Did you not want to stay at a B&B?” He takes out his phone. “’Cause I can get us a reservation anywhere. I just thought you’d like a more authentic experience.”

Dang it. That makes sense. Iwouldrather stay at a B&B, and it kills me that he knows that.

“Listen, all you need is a passport, and I’ll take care of the rest.” His pointer finger scrolls over his phone screen before he turns it, showing me a picture of a castle. “We can stay here.”

He shows me a picture of a modern-looking chateau. “Hotel München Palace.” I blink at him. “You want to stay in a castle?”

He cups my face in his hands. “Fit for a queen.”

I frown hard at him. “That is the cheesiest line I have ever heard.” And yet I can feel myself giving in.

He laughs, one of his thumbs reaching over to smooth my brow. “Yeah, but it doesn’t make it less true.” His lips brush mine. “Come to Germany with me, Trish.”

Crud muffins. Regrouping, I step back. “No.” The distance isn’t enough, so I skirt the couch, placing it between us. “I’m not going to be your security blanket.”

“Security blanket?”

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