“Madam,” he said, offering the sparkling water bottle as if it was a fancy wine.

  “Why, thank you,” she said. “Look at you. That looks good.”

  “It’s the lunch of baseball-loving Americans,” Blake explained.

  “That it is,” she said before taking a bite of her turkey sandwich.

  “Now, don’t go giving me your fitness trainer spiel,” Blake warned jokingly as he picked up the hot dog wrapper. “I see you eating your turkey sandwich on whole grain. I know your type.”

  Michelle snickered. “I wasn’t going to give you a spiel before, but now I think I will.”

  “Mommy, what’s a spiel?” Mollie asked.

  “It’s a…well…it’s a long-winded explanation about something,” she said.

  “In your mother’s case, I think she’s going to give me a long explanation about why I should eat differently, because her job is to help people be healthy.”

  Michelle grinned over at him as Mollie nodded her comprehension. He was a natural with her. She hadn’t met many men who were so comfortable engaging with children.

  And maybe that was the sexiest part about him. He could just hang out with her and her daughter, and everyone had a good time.

  “You wouldn’t do that to Mr. Blake, though, right?” Mollie asked a moment later.

  “No, of course not. He’s a grown man, with his own metabolic understanding and access to state-of-the-art gyms. He knows what he’s doing,” Michelle said, patting her daughter’s knee.

  Mollie munched on a grape, squinting at her mother. “What’s metabolic?”

  Michelle laughed, tucking back some hair behind Mollie’s ear. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? Promise.”

  Blake had a sparkle in his eye as they finished lunch. Yes, it would be far too easy to fall for a man like him, especially since he’d proven himself both charitable and great with her daughter.

  But after her ex, Michelle wasn’t sure she should be trusted to choose a man.

  Even if Blake seemed like the right man for the job…it could still be that he wasn’t even applying for the position.

  5

  Three days later, Blake was running around his penthouse with a knot in his gut.

  The sensation was odd. It felt a little like he was getting ready for senior prom, mixed with the sensation of heading to his last exam of grad school, sprinkled with a healthy sampling of generalized anxiety.

  And he knew why, even if he didn’t entirely want to admit it.

  This was date number four with Michelle. Which meant a number of things, but the worst one of all was that he was actually excited to see her.

  Blake didn’t go on multiple dates with the same person. It was a fact as old as time. Yet here he was, forced into a fourth date with a woman who was gorgeous, thoughtful, well-respected, and rapidly becoming a calm source of insight for him.

  He’d thought he’d be dreading this—that it would be a dull slog to meet the requirements of the bet. Was it so wrong of him to be liking it?

  This date marked the first actual date, if anyone was being technical about it, where he hadn’t lured her out on the promise of anything work related. And to be honest, their sweet and fun Sunday at the youth fields had barely involved work at all. Yes, she’d given him some good tips on training options for the kids, but it had been part of an easy, free-flowing conversation in which training had only barely been discussed. Most of the time, he’d simply enjoyed the day at her side.

  And that was unprecedented.

  So was the way that Michelle threw him off balance, even though she probably wasn’t trying to. In fact, he suspected that Michelle would never want him to feel anything but great about himself. But the truth was that her humble, unassuming nature sent him more off-kilter than he’d ever felt before. Yet somehow, she was able to center him, even when she destabilized him. Bring him down to the ground, when he was so accustomed to flying off into outer space.

  It wasn’t just the fact that she’d gently and sweetly gotten him into her run-down car. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d insisted on eating her lunch on Sunday out of a cracked and stained Tupperware container. It was the fact that she didn’t want anything from him. She didn’t see his wealth and think cha-ching. She wasn’t impressed by his driver, or his limited model sports SUV, or the fact that he owned baseball teams and a record label.

  She appreciated him, respected him, but didn’t fawn over his wealth.

  And that was wild.

  Blake checked and double-checked his appearance in the mirror. He’d go pick up Michelle, who had arranged for a babysitter for Mollie tonight, and then take her to his still-unfinished nightclub, where they’d have a special dinner.

  It seemed intimate and unique and something that Michelle would love. And that was also giving him the big-exam-before-graduation feelings as well.

  Blake chose black slacks and a gray button-up for the evening, paired with a black bow tie that seemed somehow quirky yet appropriate. The ride to her house was full of nerves. When he showed up, Mollie was the one who answered the door, shouting with excitement.

  “Mommy, Mr. Blake is here! Hi, Mr. Blake!” She hopped into his arms and he laughed as he hugged her. He hadn’t expected to become so attached to Mollie, but here he was. Yet another unexpected consequence of getting to know Michelle.

  Michelle appeared a moment later, and the sight of her stole his breath. She wore a navy wraparound dress that perfectly highlighted her fit body and beautiful curves. Paired with dark peep-toe heels and simple pearl earrings, he wanted to sweep her into his arms, press that beautiful body against his and see where the night took them.

  “Hey, Michelle. You look great.”

  “Isn’t my mommy beautiful?” Mollie asked, looking up at Michelle.

  “Yes, she is,” Blake said, smoothing down the front of his shirt as he took the chance to look her up and down again. “The most beautiful woman I’ve met.”

  And it was true. Looking at her all dolled up helped the truth click into place. She was beautiful from the inside out. That first day, he’d noticed her striking blue eyes and killer bod, but what had drawn him in was the soft beauty that came from the inside. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, and even the most picture-perfect supermodels he’d shacked up with in the past didn’t come close.

  “You’re the most beautiful to me,” Michelle whispered to Mollie as she leaned down to give her daughter a kiss. “Mr. Blake and I will be back later. Be good for the babysitter.”

  “Ok, Mommy! I love you!” Mollie hugged her mother’s waist before Michelle shut the door, fiddling with her earrings as she followed him to the car.

  “Are you ready for the big surprise?” Blake asked, pausing so they could fall into step, even on the short walk to the car.

  “Yes! I’ve had about a thousand ideas, wondering where you’re taking me today, but I bet they’re all wrong.”

  “Oh? Let’s hear the speculation.” Blake walked to the passenger side of the car with her, tugging open her door before she slid in. Yet another night without the driver. He wanted this to be just the two of them, not least because over the past three minutes, he’d come to a decision: he did want the evening to take a risqué turn. Even though he’d planned to trudge through these five dates without a hint of seduction, well…he’d been wrong.

  He wanted to seduce Michelle. Just a little.

  “Well,” Michelle said once he’d climbed into the driver’s side, “I thought maybe we were going to a sporting event.”

  “Wrong.”

  “I also thought maybe we’d be going to that restaurant you mentioned last week.”

  He smirked as the engine turned over, the SUV humming to life. “Also wrong.”

  “Then I thought, well, this could be dinner and a movie…”

  “Warmer,” Blake said as he maneuvered out of her driveway, “but ultimately wrong.”

  She grinned, settling back into the seat. “See? I have no idea. So you’ll just have to tell me.”

  “Also wrong. You’ll have to wait and find out.”

  Blake couldn’t fight the smile as he drove through traffic, their banter light and easy. He hadn’t counted on it being so fun to plan this, and keep it a secret from her. It was the sort of thing he’d like to do more often.

  Blake chose his favorite downtempo mix from his personal music collection, relishing the smooth electronic beats that filtered out of his high-end speakers. Michelle relaxed even more into her seat, letting a long sigh tumble out of her.

  “Feeling good?” he asked.

  “This is the best,” she said, looking over at him. “This car. This music. This evening…”

  Blake’s ears went hot. It was a suggestive compliment. One he wouldn’t mind hearing again.

  “Yeah?” He reached out for her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her slender hand was cool in his grip, and fit a little too well.

  “You know how to woo a woman,” she said, smiling over at him.

  A sharp heat burst through him. It was like she was on the same page as him. He held her hand as they drove through the city. She didn’t seem uncomfortable in his grip. And he’d never wanted to keep holding a woman’s hand like this…until now.

  So why not run with it?

  When they pulled up to the ex-warehouse that held his nightclub in the Soma district, Michelle looked like she was thinking hard.

  “Any idea yet?” Blake asked.

  Suddenly she clapped her hands together. “Your nightclub!”

  He cut the engine and got out, his footsteps scuffing over the concrete sidewalk as he came over to her side, where she had already opened the door.

  “You’re supposed to let me be a gentleman,” he reminded her, offering his hand to support her as she slid out of the car.

  Michelle giggled. “Sorry. I’m not used to it.”

  “Chivalry is dead, huh?” Maybe most guys didn’t care about treating a woman right, but Blake always went out of his way to be chivalrous—just not committed. But Michelle was waking up something extra inside him tonight. The part that wanted to fawn over her. Take care of her. Delight her. For a lot longer than he usually allowed.

  He didn’t know where it had come from or why, but it was here.

  “Pretty dead, but there might be a revival soon,” Michelle teased. He shut the door behind her and offered his arm as he guided them toward the nightclub. “Like right now.”

  “Just wait until you see what’s in store for you tonight,” Blake said.

  Michelle cozied up to him as they walked up to the front doors of the nightclub. Blake had sent an assistant to ready the area earlier in the day, so when they unlocked the door and stepped inside the expansive building, the mood lighting was already in place and the air smelled like incense.

  “Wow,” Michelle cooed as they stepped inside. The front doors clanged shut behind them. She tipped her head back to look around, mouth parted. “This place is incredible.”

  Blake agreed. He’d been focusing the majority of his attention on this new endeavor, trying to bring something modern and fresh to the Soma scene. Even though he was slightly past his night-clubbing prime, he saw the venture for what it was: an evergreen moneymaker that would continually appeal to new generations of nightlifers.

  The floor was designed to look like black marble, stretching away from them toward the bar, all along the seated areas hugging the walls, and back to the bathrooms. The bar itself was a mirrored masterpiece, accented with bottle caps and reclaimed shards of glass that coalesced to form something both unique and impossibly cool. Blake could already imagine all the interesting, well-dressed people filling the place. Sexy ladies leaning over the bar to chat with the bartender under the amber light of the sconces. The throbbing basslines from the visiting DJs. The dance floor full of writhing, grooving bodies.

  “Do you like it?” Blake asked as they slowly walked through the club, the soft electronic-jazz fusion music he’d chosen earlier playing softly through the speakers. His gaze washed over the eclectic art he’d been deliberating over for a few weeks.

  “I think it looks awesome,” Michelle said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Have you been taking care of all the details?”

  “I’ve got a great team—interior designers, sound specialists, mixologists, a celebrity chef putting together the menu—but I’ve been overseeing it all. Probably more than everyone would like, honestly. It started as a pet project that ballooned into a lot more. It officially opens in three weeks.”

  “That’s incredible. And what’s with the table for two in the middle of the dance floor?” Michelle jerked her chin toward the round table she’d obviously spotted.

  “That won’t be here in a few weeks. That’s just for us tonight,” Blake said, his hand finding the small of her back. When she tipped her head up to look at him, his breath vanished. The blue of her eyes was so striking. So absorbing. It felt like it was the first time he was truly seeing them…and in a way, he was. This was the closest he’d been to her. His fingertips sizzled on the warmth of her low back, pressed into the firmness of her, just inches away from the luscious curve of her ass.

  If she were any other woman, if this were even remotely part of his normal repertoire of one-night stands, his palm would be sliding over her ass by now. His lips would be pressed to hers. Backing her up to the wall and making it clear exactly where he wanted to take things.

  But with Michelle, that game plan didn’t seem quite right. Even though his cock was throbbing, trapped beneath the buckle of his pants, he knew he needed to refine his approach. If only he could figure out what a winning approach might look like.

  This slower style of courtship was all new to him. And he was truly no gentleman.

  “Let’s go over there,” he urged, guiding her toward the empty dance floor. “You sit down, and I’m going to get the surprise.”

  “I hope it’s delicious, whatever it is,” Michelle said, settling into her seat.

  Blake grinned as he headed off into the storage area off the dance floor, where the hot box of food awaited him. In true Blake Harrison fashion, he’d planned for all the details: white plates, white napkins, steaming hot food, even a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. He brought out the wine and glasses first, poured her a generous serving, and then went back for the food. When he came out with the two steaming plates of food, her eyes were glinting with satisfaction.

  “Here we have the famous salmon and capers dish that I’ve been teasing you with for the past week,” Blake said as he set the plates down over the black tablecloth draped over the table. “Oh, shit. I forgot the silverware. See, there’s a reason I let other people do this stuff for me.”

  Michelle snickered. “When it smells this incredible, I’m not above using my hands.”

  Of course she’d say that. The ever-flexible, go-with-the-flow Michelle. “There’s no need. I’ll be right back.”

  Blake hurried back to the closet one last time, and when he returned with the silverware, the two of them dug in with abandon. As soon as the salmon passed her lips, a low moan escaped her.

  “Holy crap, this is good.”

  “I told you.” The salmon was so tender that it basically disintegrated as he cut himself another piece. “This is the best.”

  The two of them spent the next ten minutes relishing each bite and sipping at their white wine. By the time he’d finished his plate, he was absolutely stuffed and in heaven.

  “That was the best meal of my life,” Michelle said, dabbing at her mouth with the napkin, “and the best surprise of my life.”

  “Dinner in an unfinished nightclub. It might be a red flag for some, but not for you,” Blake joked.

  “Nah, I trust you.” Michelle winked at him.

  And with the way she was looking at him, with all the light and trust in the world shining through her eyes at him, it was hard not get swept away. But the truth panged through him. He was here because of a bet.

  But was that so true anymore? Sure, the bet had brought him here, had convinced him to ask her out and spend all this time with her—but he wanted to be here right now. In fact, there was no other way he would have preferred his evening unfold. And that was saying something.

  Surely that meant that he wasn’t all bad for going through with this.

  “I need to move around to help me digest,” Blake said, a wily idea occurring to him as the music segued into a smoother jazz tune. “Dance with me?”

  She set down her napkin, giving him a shy smile. “I suppose that’s not a bad idea after all those potatoes.”

  Blake pushed to standing, offering his hand. “Yeah, potatoes push us to the dance floor, and the wine makes us better dancers.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself. I’m a great dancer,” she teased.

  “Are you? I should have figured. I’m crap. But it doesn’t matter.” He guided her away from the table, pulling her against him by the waist. “There’s no one else here to judge me.”

  “Only me,” she said and laughed.

  “Exactly. Only you.” He grinned down at her, heat rushing through him as he beheld the beautiful lines of her face. Now would be the perfect time to kiss her. And as he got lost in her blue eyes again, it was impossible not to tighten his arms around her. To get her beautiful body tucked up against him, her wine-fragrant breath hitting his chin.

  “You’re a pretty good dancer,” she murmured after a little bit. “I won’t be judging you.”

  “We’re only swaying,” he said. “Anyone can do it.”

  “But you’re an exceptional swayer,” she countered.

  “That’s sweet of you, to boost my swaying confidence. I’ll need more of that reassurance as I approach the dirty thirties,” he said.

  Her eyes lit up. “Do you have a birthday coming up?”

  “Next week,” he said. “Time for the big three-oh.”

  She gasped. “Wow! You’re old, huh?”

  He flattened his lips. “Watch it. And how old are you, madam?”

  “Twenty-nine and holding,” she said.