I raised an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”
That made her laugh. “I think you’ve used up your turn. Now I get to ask a question.”
“Fire away.”
She chewed on her lip. “Does anyone else live in your home?”
I stifled a smile. The two of us were playing the least subtle game known to man. “And you’re asking—”
“As a professional.”
I drained the rest of my water and shifted in my seat. Under the table, her leg nudged against mine. Slowly, the tip of her high-heeled shoe trailed up my calf. I leaned forward, beckoning her closer with a crook of my finger. Wren’s eyelids lowered as she awaited my whisper. “You’re cute when you think you’re getting away with lying to my face.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t back away. Instead, her face stayed inches from mine. “Are you gonna call my bluff?” Her eyes flicked from my mouth back to my eyes, tongue darting out and wetting her lips. “I’m an interior designer, Mr.Bryant. I need to take every occupant in the home into consideration.”
The little thing was goading me.
“Just me. No spouse, no kids, no pets. Why did your parents name you after a bird?”
The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “That’s not a client dinner question.”
The waiter dropped by with the bill. Wren made a move for a company credit card, but I was faster. I pulled my wallet out and slid my card into the waiter’s hand before he could walk away.
Wren’s mouth gaped open. She held her company card pinched between her fingers. “But this… You can’t—”
I edged forward in my seat. Our knees pressed against each other. I moved the back of my sneakers behind her heels, trapping our legs together. “You said if it was a client meeting, you paid. If it was a date, I’d pay, or we’d go Dutch. And since I’m not a prick, I’m not letting you pay for your own dinner on our first date.”
Panic flashed across her face. She wasn’t used to someone turning the tables on her like this. The funny thing was, I was just playing by her rules. “I think now I get to ask you date questions.”