The Boyfriend Experience (The Boyfriend Experience 1)

“It’s the immediate family on my father’s side. Most of those relatives live in and around Fresno and Bakersfield, and ever since I was a little girl, every three years, we’d all meet up at a camping resort in Santa Barbara, which is about a four-hour drive away for us here in San Diego.”

His seductive mouth curled in an amused grin. “We’re going camping? Like with tents and roughing it in the great outdoors?”

“Oh, hell no.” She laughed at the thought, even though he didn’t seem opposed to the idea. “Did you not hear the ‘resort’ part of my comment? Everyone has their own small basic cabin to stay in. Just a bed, bathroom, and kitchenette. It’s rustic, but there’s hot and cold running water and the toilet flushes.”

“Thank God for that,” he teased.

“My sentiments exactly,” she replied seriously. It wasn’t glamping, but close enough. “My mother already booked a single, double-sized bed cabin for me and my ex. Unlike most parents, mine are very open-minded when it comes to relationships and . . . well, sleeping arrangements with a boyfriend.” Open-minded was an understatement, but Evie wasn’t about to scare Eric away with their “free love” mentality, which was just the tip of the iceberg of how unconventional they really were. “I hope you don’t have a problem with those arrangements?”

“We’ll make it work in a way you’re comfortable with,” he assured her, and she believed him. So far, he’d been the epitome of a gentleman.

“Okay, then I guess that’s it for now, until I hear back from you to confirm your availability next weekend.” She glanced at the time on her phone, startled to see so much time had passed, and so quickly. “Oh, wow, I need to get to work. I have a nine o’clock appointment.”

Eric nodded. “I need to get to the office, as well.”

They both stood up, and he tossed their empty cups in the trash, then held the glass door open for her to walk through before following her out of the Espresso Cup, where they were greeted by the gorgeous, sunny, San Diego summer weather. He lightly pressed a palm to the small of her back, being courteous and respectful, yet her body felt as though it had just been shocked with a high-voltage wire.

Surprised by that startling response, she couldn’t stop the tiny, sharp breath she inhaled between her parted lips, and hoped that he hadn’t noticed that reflex. Her breasts tingled, her stomach tumbled with awareness, and dear Lord, when was the last time a simple touch from a man had elicited such a rush of heat between her thighs? How about never?

“So, what do you do for work?” he asked, interrupting her body’s crazy reaction to him as they headed toward the parking lot and their respective cars.

She forced her mind on answering the question. “I’m a hairstylist. I’m part owner in the Beauty and Bliss Salon and Spa in Hillcrest.” She glanced at him, admiring the way the early-morning sun glinted off his hair and outlined his striking profile. “What about you? What do you do for your day job?”

“For you, I’m a social worker,” he replied with one of those slow, knee-weakening winks that made her toes curl and her nipples peak. “But in my real life, I work at Prestige Car Services.”

“Oh, like a mechanic?” Surprising, since she hadn’t seen any grease under his nails.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, not that kind of car service. Prestige Car Services is a company that caters to clients who need a personal driver, for whatever reason.”

“So you’re a chauffeur?”

Another flicker of humor brightened his green eyes, the outer layers of gold more prominent in the sun. “Yeah, something like that,” he replied, his ambiguous tone making her wonder what he was hiding. Not that it mattered, as long as whatever he did for his day job didn’t affect his boyfriend duties.

They came to her vehicle, an older compact model that was basic and no-frills. She could have afforded something current, but she couldn’t justify a four-hundred-dollar-a-month car payment when this one was completely paid off. It wasn’t shiny and new, but it got her where she needed to go and gave her great gas mileage. Now that the salon was finally bringing in a nice profit for all three of them, Evie was saving that extra money for a down payment to buy her own condo someday—especially now that she was going to be single for the foreseeable future.

“I’ll need your phone number so I can contact you,” he said, taking his iPhone out of his front pocket just as she unlocked the driver’s-side door.

“Oh, of course.” She’d assumed they’d communicate through the app, but had no problem giving him access to contact her more directly.

She gave him her digits, which he typed into his phone. When he finally finished inputting her information, her own phone, which was in her purse, chimed with a message notification.