“So did I.” Donovan’s voice was low in the car. He’d adjusted the front passenger seat to accommodate his long legs. “I like your friends.”
“They really like you.” A burst of pride filled Rose with that realization. She studied Donovan’s home in the gathering dusk. His neighborhood in the Short North area was so quiet. They could be the only people for blocks. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Donovan’s bewilderment seemed genuine.
“Being the perfect pretend boyfriend.” He’d been everything she’d wanted her fake boyfriend to be: courteous, charming, interesting and attentive.
He’d been especially attentive. With every touch and look, he’d made her feel special and cherished. The deep scar tissue that had remained after Benjamin’s betrayal was starting to ease away. Rose had a moment’s panic. What would happen when reunion weekend was over? Everything would be fine as long as she remembered that this was all make-believe.
“Thank you for pretending with me.” Donovan shifted on his seat to face her. He seemed so close in the quiet confines of her car. She could feel his body’s warmth. Smell his clean, fresh scent. “Do you want to come inside?”
She was tempted. Oh, was she ever. Then she read the question in his eyes. “We don’t have to pretend anymore, Van. We’re alone.”
“I’m not pretending, Rose. You’re a very beautiful, intelligent and interesting woman. I’d like to get to know you better. If the time we spend together benefits our playacting, then that’s icing on the cake.”
That kind of approach was fine for now. Tempting, even. But what about the long term? What would happen when the playboy met the real Rose Beharie and realized she couldn’t hold his interest beyond her reunion weekend? She already knew the answer to that. He’d move on and she’d be left to pick up the pieces. Again. No, thank you.
“It’s getting late.” Rose tugged her eyes free of his mesmerizing gaze and straightened on her seat. “I should go home.”
“All right.” Donovan gave her a curious look. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
Rose’s mind wiped clean. Make something up. “I’m not sure yet.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Then I have an idea.” Donovan smiled. “Come by my place and I’ll make you dinner.”
“We’ve had dinner.” Apparently, my mind is still shooting blanks.
“I owe you a meal.”
The memory of their joint family dinner made Rose smile. “Actually, you and your friends owe my sisters and me dinner.”
“All right.” Donovan nodded. “You and your sisters are invited to my place tomorrow, and Ty, Xavier and I will cook dinner.”
Caught off guard, Rose threw back her head and laughed. “Don’t you think you should check with your friends before you commit them to cooking dinner for six?”
“Eight.” Donovan’s eyes searched her face. “I’m inviting Foster and Kayla, as well.”
More gales of laughter. She could just imagine the looks on Tyler’s and Xavier’s faces when Donovan told them his idea. “And you expect them to plan and cook this feast in less than twenty-four hours? Suppose they have plans?”
Rose thought a flash of heat had brightened Donovan’s hazel eyes before he lowered his eyelids. He shifted back on his seat, increasing the space between them. “They don’t.”
Rose gave him a skeptical look. Considering the long, hard hours Tyler and Iris worked during the week, she was pretty sure they had plans to spend the entire weekend together. Alone.
She glanced toward his house again. “Can your dining table seat eight?”
“Good point. We may need Kayla’s home for that.” Donovan frowned. “Just tell me you’ll come. We’ll work out the logistics later.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world, and I’m sure my sisters wouldn’t, either.” She’d tell Lily and Iris in person. She couldn’t wait for their reactions. “And Kayla can’t help.”
“Deal. We’ll see you then.” Donovan started to let himself out of the car.
Rose placed a hand on his shoulder to detain him. “And you can’t pass off some restaurant’s food as your own.”
Donovan looked at her hand, then lifted his gaze to hers. Rose dropped her hand. She was scalded by the heat swirling in his hazel eyes. Her body warmed in response. With just a touch and a look, he’d made her question denying her desires.
Donovan’s voice broke his spell. “Anderson Adventures men don’t need to cheat. We strategize.” Then he was out of her car and walking up the drive that led to his front steps.
Rose regarded Donovan’s broad shoulders and trim waist covered by a cabernet-colored short-sleeved crew, and the way his gunmetal-gray cargo shorts fit his glutes. His parting comment echoed in her head: they don’t cheat; they strategize. Rose shivered as she started her car and backed out of Donovan’s driveway.