Page 44 of Hexed Up

I jab my pen in his direction. “That will have to stop.”

“What will?”

“The dirty talk.”

“Did I say anything dirty?” he says slyly as he sips on his wine. “I thought that was you.”

“Number one,” I say, writing in my book. “No dirty talk, double entendres, or innuendos.”

“Why are we banning these?”

“Because they get me a little … flustered,” I say, fidgeting on my seat and unable to meet his gaze. “And we need to refrain from touching each other this weekend.”

“We’re meant to be dating, we’re going to have to touch each other if you want to be convincing.”

“Not really, Prim and Norman have been dating for years and they hardly ever engage in public displays of affection.”

“Years,” he stresses, “how long have we been dating for exactly?”

“Huh?”

“What did you tell your parents? How long did you say we’d been dating? How did you say we met? I’ll need to know the details otherwise this facade will fall apart.”

“Good point,” I fold over my page and start a fresh one, “what’s our cover story going to be? I only told them the relationship was fairly new.”

“Okay, so new enough that you hadn’t told them, but long enough that I’d agree to go away with your family?”

“Yes.”

“Three months?”

“Seems reasonable.”

“And it started,” he continues, “when I finally plucked up the courage to ask you out on a date.”

“They wouldn’t believe that. You would never ask me out on a date.”

“I wouldn’t?”

I shake my head. “I’m not your type.”

“Do I have a type?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, you have a type and I am not it.”

“Molly, you are definitely my type,” he growls.

“Firstly, that’s just the love potion talking.” I wag my pen at him. “Secondly, you’re breaking rule number one.”

“I didn’t say anything dirty!”

“It was the way you said it.”

“Youcould have askedmeout,” he suggests.

I snort a second time. “I’d never ask a man like you out.” He’s totally out of my league and the rejection and subsequent embarrassment would be crippling.

“Right,” he says, stiffly.