Page 32 of Falling for My Dirty Uncle

“How well do you know Owen?”

“Not well at all. We just met.”

“Well, I’ve known him for many years. All that playboy stuff is just an act. He usually plays it up for the press to draw attention away from the fact that he doesn’t come from money like his brother. But the way he put his coat over your head just now? I’d say it means he likes you.”

“What makes you think that?”

It’s exactly what I want to hear, but I’m still not convinced it’s the truth.

“He’s got his own reputation to protect. Didn’t you hear the part where he told you he didn’t want to see you anymore? There were a lot of reporters around,” the driver reminds me.

“He wanted to get you the hell out of dodge before someone got a good look at you. If you try him again when no one is looking, I bet you’ll get a very different response,” he continues.

“I hope so.”

I look out the window to think about what he’s said, and the unfamiliar street in front of me reminds me that I haven’t told the driver where to take me yet.

“Do you need my address?”

“Ready when you are.”

I give him the street number, and he punches it into his phone to start the GPS navigation system.

The traffic is terrible, as usual, so while we’re waiting for hordes of tourists to cross the street, I continue to pry, hoping to get more information.

I’m going to take advantage of the talkative and candid driver for as long as this limo ride allows.

“What do you mean he plays it up for the press?”

“The man is a walking sex scandal. No matter what he does or how successful he is, all anyone can talk about is how his lingerie model mother trapped his father into giving him a name, which isn’t even the whole truth. So, Owen’s just trying to give them something else to gossip about.”

Now that’s a problem I can relate to.

Carol Wilder-Westbrook is not what I’d call a traditional mother, but at least she’s not a world-famous lingerie model.

; I realize now that Owen isn’t trying to protect his reputation; he’s trying to stop me from ruining mine.

But it’s not his decision to make.

I’m a grown woman, and I’m done playing it safe. I might’ve promised him that I’d leave us alone, but a woman can change her mind.

Especially if her body is begging her to.

The driver pulls right up to the curb in front of my new apartment to drop me off.

Before I go, I lean across the center console to the front seat and plant a kiss on the driver’s cheek.

“Give this to Owen for me the next time you see him.”

The driver blushes.

“Damn!” He shakes his head and laughs. “No wonder Owen was in such a hurry to see you off. You’d better get out of this car before you set it on fire.”

The driver opens the door for me, and I exit the car.

He waits at the curb, watching me to make sure I get to the door safely.