Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall

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       Nine

      “You’re insane. You know that, right?” If Ashley had known she wouldn’t get car sick, she would’ve closed her eyes. Marcus was treating the streets of Manhattan like his own personal racetrack. “I don’t think I know anyone who has a car in the city. If they do, they use it for getting out of town, not going to dinner.”

      He made another dangerous maneuver with the car, cutting off a city bus. She was scared out of her wits and more than a little turned on.

      “Ah, but I’m not insane. One could argue that it’s insane to get into a car and let a stranger drive you all over the city. At least I’m in control.”

      She shook her head. “Most people at least drive a car in the city that can stand some abuse. I don’t know what kind of car this is, but it seems like one ding in the bumper and you’ll end up with a huge repair bill.” Her fingers caressed the leather upholstery. Whatever he was driving, it was fast and expensive.

      He caressed the steering wheel, reminding her just how much she liked his hands. “It’s an Aston Martin, and believe me, she can take all kinds of abuse.”

      Photographers were waiting for them when he pulled up in front of the restaurant. Grace had done her job letting everyone know that Ashley and Marcus would be making their second appearance. The valet opened her door, and Marcus climbed out of the car.

      “Take very good care of her.” Marcus smoothly slid a bill into the valet’s hand.

      “Give us a kiss,” one of the photographers shouted.

      “Yeah. We need a kiss,” a second added.

      The others followed suit, asking for the thing that had thrust Marcus and Ashley’s fake coupling into the public consciousness.

      Marcus glanced over at her, unfairly dashing in a black suit even when he was giving her his most perplexed look. He took her hand. Was he going to go for it? She might have to slap him. Or kiss him back. She remained undecided.

      “It’s your call,” he said.

      Her call. She was too torn between what everyone else wanted from her and what she wanted for herself—the chance to show Marcus that she might not be the perfect woman, but she wasn’t the wrong one, either.

      Unfortunately, her body knew precisely how this should play out. Her cheeks flushed with warmth at the persistent, almost embarrassing urging from the photographers, from Marcus’s penetrating gaze as he towered over her. The photographers wanted the kiss. Her mouth sure wanted the kiss. It even looked like Marcus wanted it, too.

      She had to test him. She had to know what he was thinking. “I think we should do whatever you feel like doing.”

      “Perhaps we should wait.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “We can’t give them everything at once, right?”

      The unusually warm night air brushed across her bare shoulders. Marcus’s question made her even hotter, even when he’d just disappointed her greatly. “Right. Keep them waiting.”

      Inside the restaurant, it felt as if all eyes were on them as they checked in with the hostess. Ashley should have been used to this by now, but it still made her uncomfortable, even after three years of it. She reminded herself that tonight was to make Grace and the network happy, although that wasn’t much comfort. The last time she’d tried to please them, she’d done incredibly well, all while setting her own heart on a course for destruction.

      They were guided to their table, dead center in the restaurant. Great. Dining in a fishbowl. “Do you have a corner booth available?” Ashley asked the hostess.

      “Something more romantic. Of course.” The hostess turned and led them to a much quieter, more intimate spot.

      Ashley’s heart sank as she slid into the small candlelit booth. She consulted her menu while she berated herself. How could she be so stupid? Marcus was probably thinking that she was clinging to romantic notions, which was the last thing she wanted. “What looks good for dinner?” she asked, making small talk since she hadn’t mustered the courage to ask him the questions she’d threatened to ask.

      He closed his menu. “The steak.” He smiled half-heartedly.

      The waiter came by and offered a respite by taking their orders for dinner and drinks. Unfortunately, he didn’t stay long.

      “Look, Ashley, I’m sorry about the other night.” Marcus adjusted his flatware on the table, avoiding eye contact. “Things went too far. That’s all I can say. I think it’s better that I yanked us back from the precipice before it got to be too much.”

      “Always the gentleman.” Why did his logic so often end with a case of horrible frustration? Why did it actually have to hurt?

      “It’s the only way to be with a woman.”

      Be with a woman. Ashley’s entire being bristled with curiosity over Marcus’s love life, the sorts of women he’d been with, especially his ex-wife. “Since you made it clear that we’re wrong for each other, I want to know what you look for in a woman. I think you owe me that much after the other night.”

      He nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath, seeming stuck in his thoughts. “It’s not the same now as it was when I was younger. Lila changed all of that. I need a woman who wants to be both wife and mother.”

      “That’s it? Nothing else matters?”

      “Of course other things matter, but it’s not that easy to quantify it. I only know that I want at least that much. It hasn’t been easy. It’s a delicate balance to let someone into your life only once you’re certain that it’s a good idea.”

      “But you let me into your life. Was that a good idea?”

      He took a long sip of his drink, eying her with an intensity that set her on edge. “You pushed your way into my life. There was no letting you anywhere.”

      Her stomach knotted. Why did he see her as the veritable bull in a china shop? It made her feel like such a clod.

      Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley saw a woman approaching the table. She had a piece of paper and a pen in hand.

      “I think someone’s coming over for my autograph,” she whispered to Marcus.

      “Really?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh. So I see.”