The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville 1)

Yeah. Terrible idea.

I think I was still buzzing from whatever that moment with Cooper was when I left the house. If I had been in my right mind, I’d have realized I look like a hooker in this dress. One good look at me and Ethan is going to get the wrong idea. Now, granted, I haven’t worn anything other than some sort of t-shirt and jeans or leggings combo in the last several years, so I might be over-exaggerating, but I don’t think so.

I step inside the fancy restaurant feeling like the PG-13 version of Cinderella—if her boobs were pushed up to her throat and her dress was threatening to burst at the seams. Seriously, if I make one wrong move, this whole thing is going to explode like a confetti cannon. It was a good thing Cooper zipped me up in it, because I never would have been able to achieve it on my own. I’m already planning on cutting myself out of it when I get home.

“Lucy?” a male voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to find a good-looking man, smiling with nice white teeth and all his hair. He looks very businessy in his navy suit and tie, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, he looks great—like, if I’d never met Cooper before, this guy would probably make me turn my head if I passed him in the grocery store.

UGH. And there’s the problem. Cooper…he’s infiltrated my mind. Weaseled his Baywatch body and dazzling smile into my subconscious and bench-pressed the standard I used to measure men against.

“Yes, and you must be Ethan?” I say, extending my hand in his direction.

He takes it, and his smile deepens as he does a brief, polite scan of my body. DO NOT BLUSH, LUCY. This dress is too tight to add any extra heat.

“Wow,” says Ethan, with a tone of reverence I was not expecting. He reestablishes eye contact with me again and shakes his head lightly. “You look gorgeous.” He says it in a way that has me standing a little taller. Maybe this dress doesn’t make me look like a hooker after all.

Or…maybe he’s really into prostitutes.

“Thank you. It’s surprising that I’m not six foot and burly like my brother, right?”

He takes on a sheepish look. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I’ll admit, I was a little nervous when he mentioned I should ask out his sister without showing me a picture. You never know how closely siblings will resemble each other.”

We both chuckle lightly at this, and I’m surprised by how quickly acting like a dainty first date lady returns to me. Ha ha, why yes, Ethan, I am sophisticated and definitely did not eat a string cheese and fruit snacks on the way over here.

A moment later, the hostess calls our name and takes us to our table. I notice that Ethan places his hand on my lower back to guide me. It’s a little touchy-feely for a first date, but I don’t hate it. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to feel wanted.

Too bad my mind rushes back to feeling Cooper’s rough hand glide up my spine, causing goosebumps to erupt down my arms. I shiver a little, and Ethan notices.

“Are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” he asks as we take our seats.

“No, I’m okay, thank you. Just a…little draft.” I laugh nervously and pick up my menu. I’m only a hundred and twenty seconds into this date and already I need a reprieve from acting normal. Normal is exhausting.

Also, I need to get Cooper out of my head. No more thoughts of that man or his abs or how sweet he looked with Levi up on his shoulders flying a kite. Since Cooper was not the one to ask me out on a date tonight, he’s got to go.

Except…is that…??? Surely not.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I say, noticing the man behind Ethan as he walks through the front doors of the restaurant with a hot little brunette on his arm.

“What?” Ethan asks, looking up with furrowed brows.

Ah shoot, I didn’t mean to freak out out loud. I quickly cover my tracks and gesture toward the menu with an overly bright smile. “A burger! SO excited they have a burger on the menu. I thought this might be one of those snooty restaurants that only has”—it’s at this moment I realize I’m being rude and quickly change my conversational track—“amazing food that will ruin me for all other foods in the future.” I give a weak ha ha and regret who I am as a person deeply. I also track Cooper and his movements like I’m Jason Bourne and my target has arrived.

Ethan is nice, though, and chuckles softly, ignoring my odd outburst and returning his gaze to his own menu. “I hear you. I barely eat anything grown-up these days. It seems like all my daughter ever wants is chicken nuggets and mac & cheese.”

I should be so excited to be talking with Ethan about our kids and boxed pasta. I imagine most men don’t want to discuss child menus with their dates, so I should be savoring this moment and whipping out stories of the month when Levi refused to eat anything other than strawberry yogurt. The judgment from his pediatrician was STRONG. Instead, I have the distinct feeling of wanting to tell him to hush it up so I can focus on reading Cooper’s lips as he talks to his date across the room. They’re laughing about something. Ugh. What could possibly be so funny that she needs to lean across the table and touch his arm? Nothing. The tramp.

Here’s the thing: Cooper knew I was coming here tonight. And he knew what time. So, what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is he doing over there with Miss Thing? At first, I think he doesn’t even remember I’m supposed to be here tonight; then, without even turning his head, his eyes cut directly to me, and he winks. HE FREAKING WINKS! Like he knew I was sitting here the whole time. Like he sought me out through the window before he even walked in.

He holds my gaze for two breaths, gives a quiet smirk as his gaze drops to my bare legs, and then slowly turns his eyes back to his date. I note, with both pride and confusion, that his smile fades when he looks at her.

“Lucy?” Ethan asks, like maybe he’s already said my name a few times. Oh shoot. I bet he did.

“Oh! Yep. That’s me. Sorry.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “Zoned out there for a…” My sentence trails off when I notice my phone light up on the table. I always have it where I can see it in case my mom needs to get a hold of me about Levi. This is not my mom.

I quickly pick up my phone. “Sorry, let me just check this really quick. Could be my sitter.” It’s not. I’m a liar, and I’m going to Hades.

Cooper: Hi.

I cut my eyes to the side briefly and can see that Cooper isn’t even looking at his phone anymore. What’s his angle?