“I have a surprise for you,” he says, his lips tugging into a little smile as I approach.
God, I hate that.
How happy he seems to see me.
And how I’m smiling a little bit too because his surprises are usually very good.
“Should I be worried right now?”
“Probably, but only if you hate fun.”
“Definitely worried then.”
“Go grab your phone then follow me.”
My eyebrows arch. “What do I need my phone for?”
“We’re not coming back for a few hours.”
I glance over my shoulder and back to him. “I don’t know?—”
“Fio, just trust me.”
I chew my lip. No part of me thinkstrustshould enter into this equation. I trusted a man like him once before, and it screwed me over big time.
But I can’t help myself. With a sigh, I hurry back upstairs and rapidly get changed. I throw on jeans instead of sweats, pull on a decent black top, fix my hair the best I can, and shove my phone into my pocket.
“I was about to come up there and drag you back down,” he grumbles as I skip down the steps two at a time.
I land a little awkwardly and stumble into him. He steadies me with a teasing smirk.
“Then maybe I should go back up and see if you can catch me.”
“Much as I’d like that, we don’t have time. This is a one-afternoon thing. Come on.” He heads outside, and I follow.
“If you’re about to take me to something like the Renaissance Fair, please tell me now. I’m not a medieval kind of gal.”
“Better than that.”
“One of those movies with dinner and drinks?”
“Even better.”
“Oh, laser tag.”
He pauses and looks surprised. “That’s better?”
“Ilovelaser tag.”
“Noted.” He puts an arm around me. “But better.” We walk to the end of the block, and he turns left toward a shady spot lined with trees.
I slow and come to a complete stop, my mouth falling open. He keeps going, looking smug.
Under other circumstances, I’d want to slap that smirk off his face.
But all I can do is stare.
“That’s not what I think it is,” I say, taking a step forward.
