Part One
Laurent
Chapter One
My date was so boyishly enthusiastic that I kept giving serious consideration to taking him outside the restaurant and letting him run around for five minutes to let off some steam.
While he talked about… something, I considered what kind of dog Luke Miller might be. Golden retriever was the obvious answer, but I didn’t like to settle for the first one that came to mind. Maybe a Springer Spaniel. They were loyal and obedient and ran for miles. And from what I’d seen of him during the hour we’d spent together, he had all three characteristics in spades.
“Don’t you think?”
“Huh?” I pasted what hopefully passed for an interested expression on my face.
“I asked if you agreed that two people can make a marriage work no matter what life throws at them, as long as they’re truly committed.”
“Oh, we’re on marriage, are we? Did I miss the proposal?”
Luke Miller turned a fetching shade of pink and concentrated too hard on his wineglass. Combined with the sheen of sweaton his top lip that had been a mainstay all night, it gave him the appearance of someone one step away from a nervous breakdown. He took a big gulp of wine from his glass, choked on it, coughed for a while, and then finally remembered how to breathe. It was quite the show and I could only marvel at it. “Not us, obviously. We’ve only just met.”
“Obviously,” I parroted.
“I was talking about marriage in general.”
“Why?”
That question had him frowning. “I don’t remember.” He wiped his face with the back of his hand and gave an embarrassed laugh. “You kind of make me nervous.”
Kind of.“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
I cocked my head slightly to one side. “You don’t think I am?”
“I think you like keeping people on their toes. Finn warned me you’d prove quite the handful.”
The reminder of why I was on this date did nothing to improve my disposition. When Finn had moved to Paris from London on the back of a break-up—if you could call upping and leaving without telling the other person a break-up—I’d taken my new work colleague under my wing.
His ex—Cillian—had followed him here and now just because they’d sorted everything out and were blissfully happy together, they assumed anyone single could only be that way because they were incapable of finding their own dates. As such, this was the fifth one I’d been on, simply because it proved easier to go than have Finn nag me. And maybe, if I was completely honest, there’d been a slight curiosity on my part about whether I might meet someone interesting. That curiosity had lasted till date three, none of the men they’d paired me up with remotely interesting—or suitable.
I cocked my head to one side and studied Luke. “How old are you? I forgot to ask.” I gave a pointed look at his wineglass. “You are old enough to drink, right?”
He reeled back as if I’d slapped him. “Of course I am. I’m twenty-one.”
I stifled a smile at his indignant attitude. “Ah, twenty-one. I remember what it was like to be twenty-one. Just barely, but I remember it.”
“You’re not that old.”
“I’m not that young either. I’ll be thirty in a few months.”
Luke shrugged. “I like an older man.”
“Do you? Why?”
“You ask why a lot.”
It was my turn to shrug. “You would rather I went back to daydreaming about dogs?”
“Dogs?”
