I said that, too.
Kai chuckled and held open the apartment building door for me. “I’ll give you that one. Don’t worry. I promise not to swing my penis around in the hopes it’ll hit you.”
“It’s a bit late for that,” I muttered, pressing my hand against my lower stomach.
He laughed and dropped his arm over my shoulders. “All right, Jesus, you win that one, too.”
I rolled my eyes and waited for him to pull his keys from his pocket. He unlocked his truck, but before I could open the door, he grabbed the handle and did it for me.
“Look at you being a gentleman,” I teased, climbing in.
“I am capable of it. Sometimes.” He winked and pushed the door closed.
I watched as he rounded the front of the truck and got in the other side. I tried to train my gaze to stay away from him, but it just wouldn’t comply with my brain.
Not as he started the engine, not as he put the car in reverse, and not as he pulled out of his parking spot.
Definitely not as he put it back into gear and pulled away from the parking lot entirely.
He really was handsome. Dark hair, blue eyes, lips that could seduce a slab of granite—honestly, it was so unfair. God must have been working overtime the day he created Kai Connors.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Why a phoenix tattoo?” I asked, poking his upper arm where the tail was on show beneath the arm of his t-shirt.
“Random,” he said, turning on the blinker. “I don’t know. I liked it, I guess. I wish I could tell you there was some great explanation or meaning behind it, but nope.”
“Fair enough.” I finally dragged my gaze away from him and peered out of the window. “Do you have any others?”
“You should know. You’ve seen me naked.”
“Yes, but every time I’ve seen you without your clothes, I’ve either been tired, pissed, or too busy to search your body for other works of art.”
“How many times have you seen me without my clothes?”
“Too many,” I shot back.
“I’d argue not nearly enough times. Shall we fix that?”
“Kai, just drive.”
He laughed, making another turn. “Oh, come on. It’s not like sleeping together on the first date even matters here.”
“Well, I guess there’s no risk of me getting pregnant if we did.”
He peered over at me, eyes sparking with amusement. “That is a bonus. And we both know the sex would be good.”
“Is this how this is going to work? You’re going to make the most of this fake marriage by getting sex out of me?”
“I can’t sleep with anyone else. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m unfaithful.”
“Really. Is that so?”
“No. I’d just really rather have sex with you again.” He flashed me a grin. “Is that really that bad?”
“I don’t know. You told me I’d feel your cock inside me for a week, and you lied.”
“Technically, I did leave something inside you, so it wasn’t a total lie.”
Smartass. “Do you always start your first dates with sex?”
“No. I usually cover the basics of what you do, where you work, what kind of movies you like, your favorite music,” he said, pulling into the mini golf place. “But if I ask you that in public, we might get some funny looks, considering we’re supposed to be married. I wouldn’t look like a very good husband if I did that.”
“So it’s all about how you look. Are you shopping for a real future wife?”
“Depends. Are you for sale?”
I stared at him for a moment, then got out of the truck without answering. I knew he was joking—hell, his laugh was so loud aliens could probably hear it without straining too hard.
He locked the truck and once again looped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Too heavy for a first date?” he whispered in my ear.
“I think we’re past that, really,” I said, once again touching my stomach. “Just stay away from my golf club before I accidentally hit you.”
“Warning taken.” He got the door for me and we walked into the building that housed the spacious entry hall.
It had three other exits, one that lead to the staff quarters, one that lead to the on-site restaurant that was really a glorified high school cafeteria, and the mini golf course. The golf course itself lead to a large indoor arcade that was full of slot machines and games and grabbers.
You know, the ones where you spent twenty bucks for a soft toy that would cost you five from the internet?
I’m pretty sure those machines were why my parents charged me and Holley rent as soon as we got jobs. And since the bar was our first job, it came out of our wages. Like taxes.
Hmm. I had to check my paycheck just in case they were still doing that…
We joined the short queue for tickets to the mini golf. It took us only a few minutes to get the front, and Kai paid while I took the tokens we could use to exchange for the clubs and balls at the kiosk outside.
It was a sprawling area, complete with a playground for kids, and since it was Sunday, it was packed.
“Oh no,” I said quietly. “Screaming kids.”
Kai chuckled to himself. “Get used to it.”
I thumped him in the arm.
Just because the arrival of my own screaming child was imminent didn’t mean I wanted to hear other people’s.
He switched our tokens for clubs and balls at the kiosk, and we waited until the couple in front of us was on the third hole before we started.
“Should I go first? In case of a wayward club?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You can try, but I bet I’d hit you either way. By accident, of course.”
Grinning, he stepped aside and let me go first.
I lined up my ball and got into position.
“Your ass looks great in those jeans.”
“Looks better out of them,” I retorted, then hit the ball.
I missed it.
“See, if you weren’t making a snarky comment, you’d have hit it.”
“It wasn’t snark; it was truth.” I swung the club and this time, hit the ball. “And careful, or I’ll hit you.”
“You keep promising to hit me but I don’t see it happened. I’m a little disappointed.”
“Welcome to marriage,” I said, tapping the ball into the hole. “It’s full of disappointments.”
“Hmm. I want a divorce.”
“Me, too.”
Our eyes met, and we both smiled.
Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, to try and make this fake relationship real. He made me laugh, and I liked spending time with him—mostly—and yeah, he was too attractive for his own good.
Which was why I knew there was something more than just a little crush I was feeling for him.
Because all the women around us were staring at him unabashedly, and I wanted to gauge out their eyeballs.
Women were weird.
“How many hits did it take you?” I asked, looking at the sheet. “A hole in one? You did it in one?”
“I did,” he replied smugly. “And you’d know it if you were paying attention instead of staring daggers at all the other women around here.”