As though noticing Arianne’s attention, Mark quickly turned to meet her eyes briefly. “What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?”
Arianne averted her eyes guiltily. “Excuse you! I wasn’t looking at you. I was looking at… Er, the beautiful scenery outside your window! Look at the weather today—it’s great! It’s not snowing! It’s a bit cold, though.”
He raised his eyebrows in skepticism. “And what’s so different about the scenery from your window and mine, huh? Is it so great that you had to try to look past me for it? Should I apologize for blocking your view?”
Arianne’s tongue was tied in embarrassment. Why did he have to expose her like that?
They arrived at the fancy Italian fine-diner Mark had booked. When they stepped through the door, Mark placed his hand on his hip to form a small loop for Arianne, who naturally hooked her arm through it.
Her heart was beating fast. She had to admit that going on a date definitely brought some highs.
Arianne deliberately picked a glass of juice as her drink, heeding Mark’s advice. If he forbade her from drinking coffee, then even stronger liquor like red wine must also be off-limits. Red wine was, after all, still alcohol and should therefore be avoided by a breastfeeding mother.
To her surprise, Mark stepped in. “No, scrap that. She’ll have red wine as well.”
“I still need to breastfeed Smore at night, don’t I?” Arianne questioned. “Isn’t alcohol bad for that?”
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