Chapter 4
BLAIR
Operation Eat Your Heart Out, Tate was in full force.
I’d put on the sexiest dress I’d brought, the highest heels, and a push-up bra. I’d blown my hair out and styled it for volume. I’d also painted my lips red and applied the darkest shade of mascara that brought out the blue in my eyes.
As I checked myself in the mirror, I had to admit: I looked hot. And older. Older was definitely what I was going for under the current circumstances.
Tate’s reaction when he spotted me approaching in the lobby was exactly what I’d hoped for.
Actually, with the way his jaw dropped, it was better than I’d hoped for.
Naturally, he looked amazing, dressed in dark jeans and a form-fitting black Henley, rolled up at the sleeves to taunt me with those sexy forearms. The sight of him seriously did things to me.
And his smell? It was a mix of leather, musk, and vanilla. I wanted to drown in it.
He cleared his throat as he took me in. “Well, if you’d dressed like this when we first met, I might’ve believed the lie about your age.”
“Amazing what some makeup can do for a fresh face like mine, huh?”
“You look nice, but you don’t need it.”
“Just nice is how I look?”
“You look hot, and you know it.” He gritted his teeth. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Doris-Delores.”
“It’s called having a little fun.” I winked. “You should try it sometime.”
“Having fun includes trying to give me a heart attack?”
I shrugged. “I like messing with you.”
“You’re very good at it.” His eyes locked with mine for a few seconds. “Shall we head to dinner?”
I raised my chin. “Absolutely.”
The outdoor restaurant was beautiful at night, lit up everywhere with little white lights. I realized I’d been so preoccupied with Tate from the moment of our first meet-up that I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach growled.
The waitress set some menus down in front of us. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
“I’ll have a Sam Adams,” Tate said before gesturing toward me. “She’s not of age.”
My shoulders slumped. “You always have to point that out.” I glared at him before turning to the waitress. “We’re celebrating my dad’s fiftieth birthday tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow…” she said to him. “You look great for fifty!”
“Thanks,” he muttered, shooting daggers at me.
“I’ll take a Coke, please,” I said.
“Coming right up.”
I shut my menu. “You’re no fun, Tate, you know that? I had planned to use my fake ID before you thwarted it.”
“You’re bonkers and reckless enough as it is. I don’t need you under the influence on top of everything.”
“I think you’re afraid I’ll end up on top of you if our inhibitions are compromised. Is it that you don’t want me to have fun, or you don’t want me to impair my judgment because you can’t be sure of your own intentions tonight?”
His jaw tightened.
“I thought so...”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It really is just as simple as you’re underage, and I’m not in the mood to get in trouble for ordering a drink for a minor.”
“You didn’t have to order it. I would’ve ordered it myself. And minor is a harsh word for someone who’s a legal adult.” I shrugged. “So, I’m not the drinking age—in this country. Big deal. Age is just a number.”
“If it’s just a number, why did you feel the need to lie about it?” He sat back, crossing his gorgeous arms as he awaited my answer.
I had to admit, he’d stumped me. Why did I feel like I had to lie? I wasn’t ashamed of my age.
“I was trying to create an alter ego, I guess, one who was separate from the sadness I’m trying to escape by coming here. Adjusting my age was merely a consequence of that. In retrospect, I should’ve been honest, but I can’t help that you have a hang-up about how old you are compared to me.”
“You said you were twenty-nine, which would still be a little young for me, believe it or not. There’s a world of difference between twenty-nine and nineteen. You may not realize it now, but you will in retrospect.”
“Or I might think back to the time I met a handsome older man at a resort and we wasted a few good days because he was hung up on a number, even though he was attracted to me and every part of him besides his brain was on board. That man had a problem with letting loose.”
Tate cleared his throat. “And just how often do you let loose, Doris-Delores?”
“Actually...believe it or not, almost never. That’s always been my problem. I’ve taken life way too seriously and given way too much of myself to one person, who ended up throwing me away. I’ll never do that again.”
He nodded. “When did this breakup happen?”
“Three months ago.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe later. Not now. I don’t want to ruin my dinner.”
He smiled sympathetically. “Fair enough.”
After a moment, I asked, “When are you leaving?”
“Saturday. You?”
“Same, actually.”
Three days.
It wasn’t long enough.
The waitress returned to the table. “A beer for you...” She placed the bottle in front of Tate before setting down my glass. “And your Coke.” She looked between us. “Have you guys decided what you want to eat?”
“We haven’t even looked at the menu,” I admitted. “Dad can’t figure out what he really wants. Actually, he knows what he wants, but he’s not sure if he should go there.”
“It’s your birthday!” the waitress encouraged. “You should splurge.”
“That’s what I said.” I snorted.
“Let me guess…” the waitress added. “It’s the lobster alfredo.”
“He’s afraid-o, yeah.” I laughed.
Tate’s jaw ticked.
“Okay, well, I’ll give you guys a few more minutes to decide,” she said before she disappeared again.
Tate leaned in and spoke low. “You’re such a brat.”
“If you treat me like a brat, I’ll act like one.”
He flashed me a devilish grin, and I got the sense that he was letting his guard down. Please, let that be. Little by little, maybe I could turn things in my direction if I played my cards right.
“What are you in the mood for?” I asked a moment later, perusing the menu.
“That’s a loaded question,” he said, still looking at me and not the menu.
“Are you hinting at something, Tate? Because that would contradict a lot of what you say.”
“What I want tonight and what I will allow are two very different things.”
My nipples stiffened. He wants me. Slow and steady, I reminded myself.
I forced myself to look at the menu for a minute. When I looked up at him again, I caught him staring at my chest.
“My eyes are up here, Tate.”
“Actually, your tits are pretty far up there, too. Not sure what you stuffed that dress with, but they did not look like that earlier.”
“You’ve become very familiar with them, haven’t you?”
He reached for his drink and downed some beer. I watched the way his lips sucked on the bottle, feeling the muscles between my legs tighten.
A moment later, the waitress showed up again.
She flipped a page of her notepad. “Are we ready to order now?”
Since I hadn’t been paying enough attention to the menu, I looked down and picked the first thing that met my eyes. “I’ll have the swordfish.”
She scribbled and turned to Tate. “And you?”
He closed his menu. “And I’ll have the prime rib, please.”
“Coming right up.” She collected our menus and left.
Tate took a sip of his beer then slammed the glass down on the table. “The swordfish…fitting.”
I tilted my head. “Why is that?”
“Because it’s the big fish that eats everything and spits it out.”
I was about to say, “I don’t spit,” but my instincts told me that was taking it too far. I needed a different strategy, since my smart mouth didn’t seem to be getting me where I wanted to go. Perhaps I needed a demure approach.
Once the food arrived, Tate and I had a rather nice meal together, and we even managed to stop busting each other’s balls long enough to eat.
I licked my lips as I finished the last bit of fish. “That was very good.”
His eyes moved from my mouth to my chest and back. “Best meal I’ve had so far.”
“You haven’t eaten here before tonight?” I asked.
“I was referring to the company, not the restaurant.”
I squinted playfully. “You starting to like me or something?”
“It was never about not liking you.”
His eyes widened as he spotted the piece of cake coming toward him, along with three singing members of the restaurant staff. Earlier, I’d pretended to go to the bathroom and asked the waitress if she’d bring a piece of cake to our table for my “dad’s” birthday. It was a big milestone, after all.
“What the fuck?” Tate muttered, looking like he was ready to kill me.
I covered my mouth in laughter.
After they sang happy birthday, the waitress shouted, “Can you believe he’s fifty?”
Gasps rang out around us. Tate actually turned red. This had been well worth it, just to see the expression on his face.
After the crowd left us, he shook his head. “Thanks for that.”
“Of course. I couldn’t let this special day go by.”
“My fake birthday?”
“Well, that’s what they think. But in reality, we’re celebrating our first official dinner date.”
He arched a brow. “You think this is a date, huh?”
“Isn’t it?”
“The jury is still out.”
“What’s the holdup?” I dragged my tongue along my bottom lip as his eyes followed the motion.
He cleared his throat. “There’s more than one holdup.”
“Like...”
“Like the fact that you’re young enough to actually be my daughter.”
“Aren’t we over that yet?”
“Even if I were, which I’m not, there’s the fact that you’re a liar. And age aside, nothing good can come from messing around with someone, given that we only have a few days left here.”
“You seemed to think hooking up with me was a great idea at one point.”
“That was before I got to know you.”
“Wow. I should be so flattered,” I said sarcastically. “So I’ve done nothing but turn you off?”
“Just the opposite. That’s the problem.”
“Then you’re just holding back because you think I’m immature?” When he didn’t immediately answer, I crossed my arms. “What about me has screamed immature besides the initial lie? You’re proving that you still don’t know me.”