Dilynne #3
When he blinks, something in his demeanor shifts. He goes from the intense and focused man who was just complimenting me back to the man on the verge of a panic attack. “Okay. Well, I think that settles it then.”
“Good.”
“Shit,” he mutters, pushing a hand through his hair before meeting my eyes again. “I forgot to tell you that my dad wants us to come over and have dinner with him and my mom soon.”
My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “Oh, Jesus. Not sure that’s a great idea given the bra-spinning incident.”
Elliot chuckles. “Trust me, if I thought there was a way to avoid this, I’d come up with one. But since my dad thinks we’re getting married, I’m sure they want to drill us about that.”
“Luckily, I just helped Laney plan hers so I’m fresh on marriage speak, but our fake wedding?”
“Yeah, I know. We can hammer out the details of what to say to them later, but do you have time this weekend?”
I pull out my phone and open my calendar, face-palming myself when I remember what I have to take care of in just a few days.
“I can’t this weekend. I have a press junket for Motorlux in Charlotte on Saturday.
It was the closest city where the network could film my interview, and then I have to use Sunday to work on the Porsche or I’ll fall behind, which will just stress me out. ”
“Oh, all right.”
“And I should have probably mentioned that the actual event is in Monterey, California.”
Elliot’s brows lift to the top of his forehead. “Um, yeah. That would have been nice to know before I agreed to this.”
I shrug. “Well, now you know.”
“How many days should I take off for this?”
“You’re gonna have to take off an entire week. Motorlux is in the middle of the week, but I have events I have to attend before and after as part of my entrance into the auction.”
“You’re auctioning off the Porsche?”
“Uh, yeah. All of this hard work is hopefully going to result in a fat payday for yours truly. But more importantly, it’s going to leave my mark on the industry.” Looking off to the side, I add, “And no one else will be able to take credit for it.”
“What was that?”
I turn back to face him. “Never mind.”
Elliot sighs. “Okay then. Text me the dates and details later so I know the schedule, and…”
“Oh, yeah. Gotta let you have a plan, huh?”
He flashes me a deadpan look. “Funny.”
I lift my shoulder and smirk. “I have my moments, or so I’ve been told.” Moving toward the door, I slide my shoes back onto my feet and spin around, only to find Elliot at my back.
“Do you have something you could wear to dinner with my parents?” he asks as his eyes dance all over my face.
I jokingly look down at my overalls covered in grease and pretend to fluff my hair. “What? Will this not work?”
He doesn’t smile. “I’m serious, Dilynne.”
“Relax, Grumpzilla. Yes, I have something.”
“A cocktail dress maybe?”
“Oh, you’re thinking fancy?”
“Pretty sure my father doesn’t even own a pair of jeans, Dil.”
“No wonder he looks so miserable all the time.”
“Do you have a dress or not? If not, I can take you shopping…”
I hold up my hand. “No need for a Pretty Woman moment. I’m pretty sure I have a little black dress somewhere. If not, my best friend happens to wear the same size as me, so…”
He nods. “Okay. You do know you’re going to have to refrain from saying the word ‘fuck’ in every sentence during dinner, right?”
Planting my hands on my hips, I tease, “Well now you’re asking me to be someone I’m not.”
Elliot scratches his jaw, the sound of his nails dragging through his scruff hitting me right between the thighs. “Yeah, you’re right. The more you are yourself, the more this might piss off my dad, so it might not be a bad thing.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Are you going to have a little too much fun making your father upset about us?”
“Maybe.”
I shove a hand at his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. Damn, he’s solid. “Good for you. You deserve to have some fun.”
His eyes move down my body and then off to the side of the room. “The kind of fun I need is making me feel insane, so not sure I should be causing more trouble, but…” He shrugs and then reaches to open the front door. “Good night, Dilynne.”
“Good night, Elliot.”
He leans in and, for a moment, I think he’s about to kiss me. But at the last second, he swerves and presses his mouth to my cheek.
Whispering in my ear, he says, “Just in case someone is watching us.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Disappointment floods my chest, making me question if I’m coming down with a virus or something—because nowhere in the history of forever would I be disappointed by Elliot Thorne not putting his lips on mine.
This entire night has just thrown me for a loop and I’m beginning to go crazy. That’s it.
“Talk to you soon,” he says as I make my way out to my car. He stands in the doorway, waiting for me to safely slide into my front seat and pull out of his driveway before he retreats inside his house.
And as I drive home, I go back over multiple moments from the night, wondering if Elliot’s rules were more for me, or for him.
But why would he need those rules?
Unless playing pretend isn’t as easy as he thought it would be, which is what I’m slowly starting to realize the more real this entire situation gets.