Thirteen
And that was how she found herself loitering outside the Russian Orthodox church where the food bank was located, with Bash’s arm tight around her shoulders.
“Seriously, we’re supposed to make out in front of a church?” he asked.
“We don’t have to make out. We have to look like we’re in love, that’s all. Handholding, cuddling, nuzzling, that sort of thing.”
“Doesn’t nuzzling include kissing?”
“Does it? I don’t know, maybe we should Google it.”
A brisk wind swept across the parking lot and he stamped his feet to stay warm. He wore a sharp-looking black blazer and tailored trousers that somehow made his ass look sexier than ever. She should probably be flattered that he’d dressed up for this. He had so much more style than most of the men around here.
“I know this is weird, b
