“Hell no, there’s not.”
He looked so insulted, she laughed. “Oh yes, there is.” She put her hand on his chest. The hard, warm muscles there did not escape her notice, no sirree, they did not. “A big old softie, deep down inside.” Very deep, past all that delicious sinew.
Shaking his head, he turned her toward the car. “Let’s go, Sherlock.”
“Where to?”
“To get your damn head checked. And probably I should have mine examined while we’re at it for even putting you in my car in the first place. Sorry guys,” he called out. “We’ve got to go.”
Chipper just waggled his eyebrows and gave a thumbs-up. “Gotcha.”
“Stop that. I have an away series, but I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Phillies,” Chipper said. “You’re going to kick ass.”
Pace narrowed his eyes. “Are you allowed to say ass?”
“Not at home, but we’re not at home. Don’t forget to tell the flight attendant that you can’t have Dr Pepper. They make you feel like crap. Oh, and pack some spare uniform pants. He always busts his zippers,” he explained to Holly.
“Sounds like a problem.” She thought it was adorable how the kids seemed to take as good care of him as he did of them.
“Stay out of trouble,” Pace said to each of them and took Holly to his car, keeping his hand on her the whole walk back, which she found both disconcerting and unexpectedly sweet. It was a big hand, warm and calloused. Very male.
Yeah, she really did need her head checked. She slid in his car, put on the seat belt and met his dark gaze. Poor baby, he looked so uncomfortable that he’d ended up with her again.
“What’s so funny?” he asked when she couldn’t hold back her smile.
“You. You’re afraid of me.”
“What? I am not.”
“You so are.”
“Maybe a little.” He pulled out of the lot with more speed than required, and hit the highway. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry about the hit to the head.”
“Sorry enough to give me the interview?”
He sighed. “I’ve already admitted that I’m an ass. You, however, neglected to mention that you’re a pain in the ass.”
She laughed, but that hurt her head so she leaned back, enjoying the sparkling ocean, the ridge of the mountains so dramatic in the late sun, the warmth of it on her face, the speed of the car, not to mention the way he handled said car. “You’re right. I am a pain in the ass. I should have disclosed that up front. Disclosure is important to me.”
“Why?”
The question surprised her. “Childhood trauma,” she quipped. “Involves Santa. It’s not pretty.”
She couldn’t hear his answer over the roar of the wind, but she did catch the quirk of his lips, and for a quick beat, she experienced that odd flutter low in her belly again.
Probably just her brains being scrambled by the ball. But she wasn’t scrambled enough not to realize they were still going in the opposite direction of her car. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“Uh-huh. Since you accused me of abducting you, I thought I’d make it for real.”
They came into town. Holly knew Santa Barbara was sometimes called the American Riviera, but it never failed to surprise her how beautiful it was with its intriguing and charming mix of colorful Old West and Spanish cultures. Pace pulled off the highway and drove down a few tourist-filled streets before pulling into a parking lot behind a three-story glass and steel building that overlooked the ocean. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. “Let’s go, Nosey Nose,” he said as he opened her door.
“Where to?”
“Just come on.”
“How very passive-aggressive of you.”
He just reached for her hand and pulled her toward the building. “It’s called pleading the fifth. And it’s a constitutional right.”
“A kidnapper and a scholar.”
He slid her a long look behind his shades. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying that you get more flies with honey than vinegar?”
She might have answered, but then she read the sign on the door he held open for her: Santa Barbara Medical Group.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, dragging her feet. “I don’t need to go in there. I’m good.”
He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were calm, and very amused. “Don’t be scared. I’ll hold your hand.”
For some reason, that sounded incredibly intimate, and her brain went to a naughty place.
Clueless, he tried to nudge her none too gently inside, his hand at the small of her back, but she stood on the threshold, a little overtaken by the odd and yet secretly thrilling beat that seemed to pass between them every time they touched.
What was going on? She’d given up penises! “This is a waste of your apparently in-demand time, Pace. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Let’s just prove it.” But in opposition to the amusement in his voice, he lightly squeezed her waist.
Reassurance.
He cared. Good to know. Because she cared back. And that . . . well, that wasn’t nearly as good to know. “I don’t want to waste your money.”
“I’ll take it out of the grand I owe ya.”
“Two. You owe me two grand.”
They were still standing close, very close, and he was taking up a whole hell of a lot of space. Her space. He had one hand on her, the other above her head, holding the door open, and that felt intimate, too.
He looked so insulted, she laughed. “Oh yes, there is.” She put her hand on his chest. The hard, warm muscles there did not escape her notice, no sirree, they did not. “A big old softie, deep down inside.” Very deep, past all that delicious sinew.
Shaking his head, he turned her toward the car. “Let’s go, Sherlock.”
“Where to?”
“To get your damn head checked. And probably I should have mine examined while we’re at it for even putting you in my car in the first place. Sorry guys,” he called out. “We’ve got to go.”
Chipper just waggled his eyebrows and gave a thumbs-up. “Gotcha.”
“Stop that. I have an away series, but I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Phillies,” Chipper said. “You’re going to kick ass.”
Pace narrowed his eyes. “Are you allowed to say ass?”
“Not at home, but we’re not at home. Don’t forget to tell the flight attendant that you can’t have Dr Pepper. They make you feel like crap. Oh, and pack some spare uniform pants. He always busts his zippers,” he explained to Holly.
“Sounds like a problem.” She thought it was adorable how the kids seemed to take as good care of him as he did of them.
“Stay out of trouble,” Pace said to each of them and took Holly to his car, keeping his hand on her the whole walk back, which she found both disconcerting and unexpectedly sweet. It was a big hand, warm and calloused. Very male.
Yeah, she really did need her head checked. She slid in his car, put on the seat belt and met his dark gaze. Poor baby, he looked so uncomfortable that he’d ended up with her again.
“What’s so funny?” he asked when she couldn’t hold back her smile.
“You. You’re afraid of me.”
“What? I am not.”
“You so are.”
“Maybe a little.” He pulled out of the lot with more speed than required, and hit the highway. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry about the hit to the head.”
“Sorry enough to give me the interview?”
He sighed. “I’ve already admitted that I’m an ass. You, however, neglected to mention that you’re a pain in the ass.”
She laughed, but that hurt her head so she leaned back, enjoying the sparkling ocean, the ridge of the mountains so dramatic in the late sun, the warmth of it on her face, the speed of the car, not to mention the way he handled said car. “You’re right. I am a pain in the ass. I should have disclosed that up front. Disclosure is important to me.”
“Why?”
The question surprised her. “Childhood trauma,” she quipped. “Involves Santa. It’s not pretty.”
She couldn’t hear his answer over the roar of the wind, but she did catch the quirk of his lips, and for a quick beat, she experienced that odd flutter low in her belly again.
Probably just her brains being scrambled by the ball. But she wasn’t scrambled enough not to realize they were still going in the opposite direction of her car. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“Uh-huh. Since you accused me of abducting you, I thought I’d make it for real.”
They came into town. Holly knew Santa Barbara was sometimes called the American Riviera, but it never failed to surprise her how beautiful it was with its intriguing and charming mix of colorful Old West and Spanish cultures. Pace pulled off the highway and drove down a few tourist-filled streets before pulling into a parking lot behind a three-story glass and steel building that overlooked the ocean. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. “Let’s go, Nosey Nose,” he said as he opened her door.
“Where to?”
“Just come on.”
“How very passive-aggressive of you.”
He just reached for her hand and pulled her toward the building. “It’s called pleading the fifth. And it’s a constitutional right.”
“A kidnapper and a scholar.”
He slid her a long look behind his shades. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying that you get more flies with honey than vinegar?”
She might have answered, but then she read the sign on the door he held open for her: Santa Barbara Medical Group.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, dragging her feet. “I don’t need to go in there. I’m good.”
He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were calm, and very amused. “Don’t be scared. I’ll hold your hand.”
For some reason, that sounded incredibly intimate, and her brain went to a naughty place.
Clueless, he tried to nudge her none too gently inside, his hand at the small of her back, but she stood on the threshold, a little overtaken by the odd and yet secretly thrilling beat that seemed to pass between them every time they touched.
What was going on? She’d given up penises! “This is a waste of your apparently in-demand time, Pace. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Let’s just prove it.” But in opposition to the amusement in his voice, he lightly squeezed her waist.
Reassurance.
He cared. Good to know. Because she cared back. And that . . . well, that wasn’t nearly as good to know. “I don’t want to waste your money.”
“I’ll take it out of the grand I owe ya.”
“Two. You owe me two grand.”
They were still standing close, very close, and he was taking up a whole hell of a lot of space. Her space. He had one hand on her, the other above her head, holding the door open, and that felt intimate, too.
