Page 16 of By The Book
“And you don’t think he has a right to know? He’s yourfather.”
“Do you tell your father everything?” The question hit home given her expression, and the niggle of suspicion regarding her motives for being there turned into a full-fledged punch. “Ah. I thought so. You’renotjust here for a vacation, are you?”
She put her feet into motion and nudged by him on the narrow sidewalk.
“Of course I am.”
“Doesn’t ring true, sweetheart.”
She stopped again, and because he’d been following her marching steps so closely, he nearly ran into her. Claire tilted her head back, way back, and stared up at him.
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
“Just making conversation as we walk.”
“Making conversation? I don’t know you and you’re asking a lot of personal questions.”
“So are you.”
“For all I know, that story about you being a bodyguard is a lie, and when my dad checked you out, he talked to a friend of yours who covered for you. People do that kind of stuff all the time.”
Denz chuckled, his laughter echoing off of the homes nearby.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny. Especially considering who I had dinner with tonight.”
“Who youclaimto have had dinner with.”
“Claire,” he said, gently snagging her arm with his one good hand, “I’m legit. I’m not sure who your father talked to, but I can provide credentials if you’d like to see them. Or I could prove it to you another way.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I need a date for a wedding.”
Claire blinked.
“A wedding—with Oliver Beck and Marsali in attendance?”
Yeah, he really didn’t like the fact the draw for her was Oliver. “They’ll be there,” he said. “But since you know Marsali, and she can vouch for me, maybe you’ll finally believe I am who I say I am. Plus Mrs. B can help you with your dating issue.”
“I don’t have a dating issue.”
“Good. That means you’ll go with me. Because a wedding date isn’t really a date but an event, and you’re only going to make sure I am who I say I am.”
He could practically see the wheels spinning in her brain as she pondered his words.
Claire inhaled and moved forward without responding to his question as to whether or not she’d go with him. Denz followed, trying not to notice the sway of her hips or how cute she looked as she squeak-flopped along the sidewalk.
“Marsali set Scott and me up,” she said. “In high school.”
Okay. Not sure he wanted to hear that but…
“If I agree to go,” she said, the words trailing over her shoulder, “it definitely wouldn’t be as a date—because I don’t. ButifI agreed, whose wedding is it?Whereis it?”
He chuckled at her attempt to fish for details. “Uh-uh. You want info, you have to agree first.”
“Seriously?” She stopped again and turned to face him, inhaling as though drawing on the last of her patience. “Fine, I’ll go—only so I can see them together in person and say hello to Marsali.”
