Chapter Seven
Mr. Mine raises a browwhen he returns to my side and sees that Grandpa Paco is no longer around.
"He says I should ride with you."
"Good."
"You know he's matchmaking, right?" I hold my breath as soon as I say the words, but Mr. Mine appears unruffled.
"I'm glad he deems me suitable."
"It's more than that," I feel obliged to clarify, just to make sure that he's aware of the precarious position he's in. "Your bachelorhood is at risk, I'm afraid. My grandpa thinks you're quite the catch—-"
"That's because I am."
His words startle a laugh out of me, but it doesn't last long. There's something about this whole situation that doesn't feel completely right, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
"What's wrong?"
His voice is quiet, but it's the warmth in his tiger-gold eyes that makes me feel even more bewildered and unsettled. The stars have finally started to align for both of us, but instead of being grateful, here I am doing what I can to stir up a hornet's nest.
Mr. Mine is still looking at me, and I force a smile. "Sorry, I'm just being silly. I don't think there's anything wrong—-"
"And that's what's worrying you."
Oh, Mr. Mine.
Why does it seem like he knows me better than I know myself? I can't even figure out what's troubling me, but I know it's exactly as he says it is the moment I hear his words.
I was scared Grandpa Paco's shameless attempt at matchmaking would turn him off, but he doesn't seem bothered at all. I know Mr. Mine can easily be the kind of man to take everything in stride without revealing his thoughts, but I have this weird feeling he really doesn't mind that my grandfather sees wedding bells every time he looks at us.
And yes, I do know I shouldn't question a gift horse in the mouth, but...
"Why aren't you mad?" I blurt out.
His ride comes up the driveway before he can answer me, and I'm momentarily distracted when I realize he's helping me into the backseat of a limousine. My grandfather is obviously no pauper, but even my old man isn't so fancy he's going around the city in a limo.
Mr. Mine slides in next to me, and my heart skips a beat as I hear the thud of the door closing shut.
It's just the two of us again, and while I love that it's so—-
"We really do need to talk," I say reluctantly.
"We do," Mr. Mine agrees. "And we will. Later."
"But—-"
Mr. Mine hauls me to his lap, and I forget why I want to talk in the first place the moment I feel myself straddling his muscled thighs.
Mr. Mine is right, I think dreamily.
Why waste time talking now when there's this thing that's oh so big and hard that has started poking my belly?
Poke, poke, poke it goes, and lust reenters my bloodstream.
His gaze captures mine, and the look in his eyes—-
"You're the one doing it this time," I whisper.