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His Temptation, Her Secret
It was clear she was mocking him, but she could be right.
He definitely liked to accomplish things. It felt good to succeed. And he liked to be the best he could.
When he discovered he was falling behind in something, he took immediate steps to catch up. Take last year. He’d discovered he was getting out of shape, that both Matt and Caleb could outrun him.
He’d hit the gym, started rowing and biking. He could now beat both of them in a five-mile run. He hadn’t thought about why it mattered to him. But ego would definitely explain it.
“Seafood okay with you?” he asked as they made their way toward the parking lot.
“Anything’s okay with me. But I can’t let you keep paying.”
He almost laughed at that. “I’ve got a lot of paying to make up for.”
“With Eli, sure. But not with me. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Other than nine years of child support?”
“I’m not asking for that.” Her tone was genuinely horrified. “I’d never ask for that. None of this has anything to do with money.”
“I know it doesn’t.” How could he not know that?
The fact that he’d found out about Eli at all was a bizarre coincidence. His anger still simmered when he thought about her secrecy. But now wasn’t the time to rehash her past decisions. The last thing he wanted to do was fight.
“I won’t take your money,” she said.
“It’s dinner, Sage. I’m buying you dinner. People do that with their friends every day.”
“We’re not friends.”
“Well, I hope we’re going to be friends. Things are going to be a whole lot easier if we’re friendly.”
She didn’t seem to have a response for that, and they’d arrived at his car.
“Are you afraid of flying?” he asked as they got inside.
“No,” she said. “I mean, it’s not something I do. We’re hardly in a position to take sun vacations. But I’m not afraid of it.” Her tone turned suspicious. “Why? Why are you asking? Are you looking for genetic flaws?”
“Genetic... No.”
“I doubt irrational fears are inherited, anyway.”
“I’m not looking for genetic flaws. You have no genetic flaws.” He pulled onto the street.
“I have red hair and freckles.”
“The freckles have faded.” He’d always thought they were cute. “And your hair’s not red, it’s auburn. It’s a beautiful shade of auburn. Do you know how much women pay to get that color hair? And you’re absolutely brilliant. What is your IQ, anyway?”
“I’m not telling you my IQ.”
“That high, huh?”
“No, it’s not that high. It’s not anywhere near...” She blew out what sounded like a tired sigh.
He let it lie as they zipped through the light traffic.
Twelve blocks later he flipped on his signal and pulled up to the Brandywine Hotel.
“Are we eating here?” she asked, glancing around at the brick-lined drive and the lighted gardens.
“Not exactly.”
He exited the car and came around to her door.
“We’re walking?” she asked as she stepped out.
The valet arrived, and TJ handed him the keys, giving the uniformed man his name.
“Not exactly,” TJ answered Sage, gesturing to the revolving glass door.
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s a helipad on the top of the hotel.”
“A what?” She looked straight up the outside of the building. “There’s a restaurant up there?”
“No.” He let her go first through the door. “That’s not a euphemism. I mean a helipad, a place where helicopters can land and take off.”
“Why?” She looked perplexed.
“You said you weren’t afraid to fly.”
“You said we were going for dinner.”
“We are.”
She gave him a look that questioned his intellect. “In a helicopter? Are you showing off?”
“No. I’m being practical.” He touched the elevator button.
“This, I have got to hear.”
“We’re going to the Crab Shack. It’s a great little seafood restaurant.”
“By helicopter?”
“It’s faster.”
“Faster than what?”
“Than a car.”
The door closed behind him. He inserted a key card and pressed the button for the rooftop.
She watched his motions. “Do you have a room here?”
He glanced at the card before putting it back in his pocket. “No. I made arrangements earlier to access the helipad.”
“You planned this?”
“Yes, I planned this. Helicopters don’t just swoop in for me on a moment’s notice.”
She was silent as the floors pinged by.
“Is this place fancy?” she asked.
“You look fine. You look better than fine.”
“Is it fancy?”
“Not really. It’s pretty down-to-earth.”
“Is it on an island? Do we have to cross the strait?”
As the door slid open, TJ turned his head from her and mumbled, “It’s in Whiskey Bay.”
“What did you say?”
He gave up the subterfuge. “I said it’s in Whiskey Bay.”
She stopped dead, her eyes going round as she stared at him. “What are you doing, TJ?”
“You might as well see the community.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“Of course not.”
Her gaze slid to the helicopter. “And if I don’t want to get onboard?”
“Then you’ll miss the ride of your life, a great seafood dinner and a chance to see where I live.”
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