A Perfect Storm
Page 49

Like hell. “Arizona…”
Shaking off her melancholy, she cut in to say, “Don’t forget to drop me off near a bus stop so I can arrive separate from you.”
He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of being an ass.”
He paused before pointing out, “Now you owe me two.”
“Kisses? Good. Great.”
That earned her another double take. “Is that a joke?”
Her blue-eyed gaze gave away her simmering temper. “Why not?” In a tone more flippant than not, she curled her lip and said, “You kiss like a schoolboy anyway.”
Well, hell. He hadn’t seen that coming. “Let me make sure I understand this.” He glanced at her elevated chin. “You’re complaining about how I’ve kissed you?”
She didn’t deny or confirm that. “Maybe I should really let you have it, and go for an even dozen.”
“Kisses?” His heart punched into his ribs. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
Mulish, she crossed her arms, swung her foot in agitation and went back to staring out the window.
“Come on, honey.” He turned down the route toward where Dare waited. He’d ensure that Arizona made it onto the bus without issue, and then Dare would tail her to the bar. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Until you started admiring Marla, I was having a good time.”
“I wasn’t admiring her.” Just like a woman to twist things around. “You asked a question and I answered it.”
“Whatever.”
That flippant response annoyed him even more. “Forget about Marla already, will you?” He didn’t want her walking into the bar pissed off over nonsense. He wanted, needed, for her to bring her A-game by being calm and collected. “For the last time, she’s only a neighbor.”
“Hey, I hear you, but I don’t think Marla got the memo.”
“God Almighty, woman. Seriously? We don’t have enough to keep us occupied tonight without you picking a fight?”
Going still, she stared at him, then groaned. She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Yeah, all right.” A second or two passed, and she half laughed. “I didn’t mean to ruin things by nitpicking.”
“Things?”
She flagged a hand between them. “The little picnic was nice.”
Exasperation got the better of him. “Eating fast food in the front of a truck at a deserted park prior to using yourself as bait to draw in the worst type of creep doesn’t count as a picnic.”
She blinked at that long string of nonsense. “Oh, well…” She opened her purse and got out a stick of gum. “It did for me.”
Shit. Now he felt like a jerk. “Yeah,” he reluctantly admitted. “Me, too.”
“Uh-huh.” She popped the gum into her mouth, folded the wrapper, and put it in the ashtray. “And here you just said you wouldn’t lie.”
“It’s odd, no denying that, but so far I’ve enjoyed every minute with you. For sure, you’ll never bore me.” He thought it prudent to add, “Not that I share your enthusiasm for our agenda tonight.”
She chewed her gum and, through the car window, watched the scenery pass by. “You’ll see. I can take care of myself.”
Because she’d always had to.
But not anymore, not with him. And thinking of all the ways he wanted to care for her, he asked, “What’s your favorite place to eat?” She deserved to be pampered. Dinners out, movies, maybe some dancing…
“Hmm.” She gave it very little thought. “I don’t know.” She rolled one shoulder. “The dinner you cooked the other day was about the best I’ve ever had. Especially the cake.”
“There’s plenty left. If you want to pig out, we can finish it off tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She gave him a quick smile. “But it was so good, I’d rather savor it.”
“No need. There will be another cake at Dare’s, I’m sure.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
The small gathering was meant to make her happy, not fill her with dread. “Not looking forward to it?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but…I hate being the center of attention, you know?”
“I’m guessing it won’t be the hardship you’re imagining.” Once she was there, she’d enjoy herself. Somehow he’d see to it. To keep her from dwelling on it, he said, “Since you’ll be staying with me, is there anything in particular you’d like me to stock up on? More sweets maybe?”
She shrugged. “If you want cookies, hey, I won’t argue.”
“I can make a grocery store run. And I like cooking, so if you have a preference for dinners, just let me know.”
“Except for weapons, I’m not real picky.”
He did not want to talk weapons with her again. “Steak? Chicken? Come on, give me a clue.”
Indifferent, she offered no suggestion. “I’ve never really been a foodie, you know? I eat when I’m hungry, at any place that’s cheap but clean. I mean, I don’t want squid or snails or anything. No fish with their faces still on there. But otherwise, if you cook it, I promise I’ll like it.”
“Yeah, I’m not big on fish with faces, either.” He turned along a road leading into a more congested commercial area. He’d have to drop her off soon—and he was dreading it already. “You specified it had to be cheap?”