Faking It For Mr Right

It’s true. Ever since my interaction with Xander earlier, my entire night seems to have turned around. I don’t even mind when three tables in a row under-tip me, or when yet another drunk guy spills his beer all over the floor, making me need to break out the mop once again.

Maybe it’s just because I have something I’m actually looking forward to, for the first time in longer than I can remember.

In that case, go get some, girl, Devan texts. And if he murders you, I’ll hunt him down and murder his ass right back.

I snort under my breath as I pocket the phone and sweep back out of the bathroom for the tail end of my shift. Luckily, it seems the wedding crowd tapers off in the late evening, probably thanks to the fact that they’ll all need to wake up pretty early for tomorrow’s events. By the time we’re nearing closing, the place is practically empty.

Bob excuses me a full half an hour early, which I chalk up to the extra cash he pocketed from Xander earlier. Xander’s right—he guessed the way to Bob’s good favor pretty much immediately. Then again, Bob’s not exactly a complicated man.

I wash my face in the back room and change into my regular clothes, wishing I’d brought something a little cuter today. I’m just in jeans and a tight-fitting tank top, with a sweater to toss over it for the evenings, which tend to get chilly this time of year, this far outside of the city. But when I add the lipstick I always keep in my bag and a touch of mascara, I don’t look too bad, honestly.

At least all this hard work keeps my arms and my ass in shape.

When I head out front of the bar, despite it still being 25 minutes until midnight, I spot Xander already there, parked in a Mercedes that looks fancier than anything I’ve ever driven in before, reading by the light of his interior car light.

I approach and tap on the window lightly, so as not to startle him. He folds the book away and opens his door, stepping out to drink me in with those dark eyes, even darker out here with only the distant front porch lamp from the restaurant and the stars casting light on us.

“Damn. You even clean up nice.” He winks.

“You call this clean?” I laugh, but when he steps closer, my breath catches in my throat. He leans in close, and I catch the scent of his cologne, something piney and masculine. His lips brush my cheek, and his stubble lightly scratches my cheek, making me itch for more. But before I can turn to meet his lips, he steps back and strides around the other side of the car to open the door for me.

“Wow,” I comment, stepping around after him. “I didn’t realize big city gentlemen were still so chivalrous.”

“On the whole, we aren’t,” he replies with a smile as I slide past him into the car. My hand brushes his along the top of the door, and even that light touch is enough to send tingles cascading down my spine.

I hold my breath as he comes back around and settles into the driver’s seat. When he does, I’m aware all over again of how handsome he is. Of how long it’s been since I’ve let myself go out with anyone. Or even look at a guy like him twice.

“So. Where to?” he asks softly.

I’ve had all evening to think about this. “Well… there’s a spot on the outskirts of town that I love. It’s a bit out of the way, but at this hour, it will be deserted. I used to go stargazing there with my mom as a kid. Haven’t been there in years, but…”

“Sounds perfect,” he replies, and starts up the car. For a while, I just direct him, and we drive in mostly silence. But somehow, it doesn’t feel awkward or strange. Charged, maybe—every time he sneaks a glance in my direction, I swear I can feel my entire body heat up in response. But I don’t feel the need to babble endlessly to fill up the silence. It’s as if we’re both instantly comfortable in quiet around one another.

We make one of the last turns before the dirt road that rambles up to the cliff I have in mind, and Xander tightens his grip on the wheel as the road turns bumpy. “Sorry,” I say, glancing forward and back. “I probably should have warned you this would involve a little off-roading.”

“Believe me.” He pats the wheel of the Mercedes. “This baby has been through worse.”

I laugh. “Really?”

“I once drove out to the Catskills on a weekend camping trip. That was an adventure.”

“So you aren’t just a city slicker, huh?” I cast him a sideways grin.