I pop a hip against the counter and cross my arms as I wait for him to dig a deeper hole for himself. “But what?”
“But I can afford it. And…”
“And…?”
“I asked…you…out?” It comes out sounding very uncertain and very un-Garrett-like. Which is why I let him off the hook. Well, that and the fact that he didn’t say he was the man, which was totally what I expected him to say.
“You did ask me out. And you already bought dessert. Second dessert is on me.” I stop the argument once and for all by placing a wad of cash in Sylvie’s hands. Then I pick up the dessert box and head for the door. “You’d better hurry or I’m eating everything in here by myself.”
Garrett doesn’t need to be told twice.
Chapter 9
Garrett
Lola is the strangest woman I’ve ever been on a date with, but despite that—or maybe because of it—she is absolutely fascinating. So fascinating that I find myself trailing her out of the patisserie like a lost puppy—with Bastian pulling up the rear—and I don’t even mind. How can I when every second with her is an adventure? I never know what she’s going to do or say next.
Which would be a problem if I were still the Crown Prince, whose every word and action has to be planned out ahead of time. But since I’m just the spare these days, it’s perfectly acceptable. God knows when Kian was the spare, he did way less princely things than go out with an unpredictable woman.
If only Michael could see me now, looking on the bright side of this whole demotion thing. He’d be so proud.
Lola stops right outside the door of the patisserie, where Bryce and Samuel are waiting for us, and pops open the top of the pastry box. “Pick anything you want,” she tells them with a grin. “Except the caramel macarons.”
“But caramel macarons are my favorite,” Bastian teases.
She narrows her eyes at him. “Well, then, you should have made that known inside the bakery.” But she reaches into the box and pulls one out. I’m certain she’s going to hand it to him—and I think he is too—right up until she pops it into her mouth with a grin.
She chews for a few seconds, then covers her mouth with a hand and says around a mouthful of cookie, “Now you can have anything in the box. Including the last caramel macaron.”
“I think I’ll go for the fruit tart instead,” Bastian tells her.
She swallows, then makes a little clicking noise with her mouth. “Smart move, my man. Smart move.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. She’s just so utterly removed from any experience I’ve ever had before that I don’t know what else to do. I’m part awestruck, part spellbound, and surprisingly all in. Maybe Michael was right—maybe finding something that I want besides the throne is exactly what I need to start to heal. Then again, I’d settle for something as simple as being able to sleep for more than an hour at a time…
Lola waits as the others grab their coffees and desserts, then she once again takes off down the street without a word. And, once again, I’m left trailing after her, wondering what the hell she’s up to now. Not that I’m complaining—considering how fantastic her ass looks in her tight black pants, I am more than happy to follow wherever she decides to go.
I catch up with her after a couple of minutes, and we walk in companionable silence for the next six or seven blocks. Despite it being a resort destination, I’ve only been to this town a few times, so I don’t have any real idea of where we’re going. Lola seems to have a purpose, though, so I’m content to let her lead. My whole life I’ve always had to be the one in charge, and there’s something kind of nice about ceding control of this date to her. Something kind of nice about just waiting to see where she will take us.
It turns out she’s taking us to a park at the edge of the town square. The park is closed—it closes at dusk—but that doesn’t stop Lola. Of course it doesn’t. Instead, she says, “Hold this,” and hands me the pastry box. Then she kicks off her heels and throws them over the gate before shimmying after them like a parkour master.
“Here, hand me the pastries,” she says, reaching over the gate for the box. “And the coffees.”
Behind me, one of my detail lets out a choked little sound, and I glance back to see the three of them wearing huge, shit-eating grins. The traitors. I shoot them all a glare, then turn back to Lola. “I’m pretty sure members of the monarchy are supposed to obey all citywide ordinances.”
“This from the man claiming squatter’s rights the other day?”
“That ordinance is still on the books, thank you very much. As is the one closing this par
k at seven tonight.” I point at the sign she is willfully ignoring. “Maybe we could enjoy our dessert back at my villa, or—”
“Your villa? Are you trying to get into my pants?”
“I am…not?” It comes out sounding like a question, so I clear my throat and put a little more conviction into my voice. “I mean, I would certainly like to get into your pants at some point in the not-so-distant future, but right now my only objective is to keep us from being arrested. So…”
More choking noises come from behind me, but I don’t bother turning around to see who it is. Because, seriously, at this point who can blame them? Right now I’m about as far from smooth as I can possibly get. I take a moment to be grateful Kian isn’t here to see this disaster.
“So, what you’re saying is, you’re afraid?” Lola asks.