of West’s voice shocked her more than his touch.
Inhale, good. Exhale, better. “I’m fine. Really.” Or she would be. As soon as she reached her sister. Brook Lynn had a way of making everything A-okay.
“You sure about that?”
Convince, move on. She offered the brightest smile she could manage. “Are you okay? You actually seem concerned about my well-being.”
He yanked his hand away from her. “I don’t know if you’ve heard the rumors, but my heart is made of stone. Of course I’m not concerned.”
She remembered the look he’d given her during the soccer game and decided his heart wasn’t made of stone but of fire.
Not that she’d share her observation. But maybe she could get him to admit it.
“You were right. About my childhood. It was absolutely tragic.” Offering an exaggerated frown, she traced a fingertip down both of her checks to mimic tears. “You should feel sorry for me and be super nice to me from now on.”
He suddenly looked as if he was fighting a smile. “You know, upon further reflection, I’m certain my childhood was far worse than yours. You should feel sorry for me and do everything I tell you.”
Well, well. “Color me intrigued. What’s the first thing you’d tell me to do?”
He glanced at her, proving her theory: he burned.
“I’d want you—”
She shivered and—
“—to tell me more about your childhood.”
Withered in her seat. “What do you want to know?”
“What did you want to be when you grew up?”
Polite interest? Or was he actually curious? “You’ll laugh.”
“Maybe. Probably.”
Had to respect his honesty. “Mostly I wanted to be that crazy cat lady.”
He choked on a breath. “An old woman who wears rollers and a robe, and has a hundred cats prowling through her house?”
“Exactly. I wanted a cat but Dad was allergic. Once a month Mom drove me to the shelter where I got to pet a roomful of strays. The employees used to joke about that crazy cat lady who came in every few weeks to adopt a new one. I was so jealous of her.”
“That is...” He frowned. “Ridiculously adorable.”
He sounded surprised. “What about you? What did you want to be?”
“Sorry, but we’re not done with you. When you realized crazy cat lady wouldn’t pay the bills, what’d you want to do?”
“Become a high school teacher.”
“Subject?”
“English.”
He wiggled his brows. “How do you come on to a high school English teacher?”
Her brow furrowed. “Uh...how?”
“Over? Under? To? Around? Outside?”
She snickered. “You preposition her.” Silly man.
Sexy man.
“Now I have to know your childhood dream,” she said. “Tell me!”
“I had big plans, was going to be the youngest, hottest cop on the force.”
A puzzle piece clicked into place. “Had fantasies about taking down bad guys, did you?” Made sense, considering some of the hellholes he must have lived in.
“Something like that.”
“Now you create video games that allow you to defeat every kind of bad guy imaginable, so in a way, you’ve achieved your dream.”
“That’s true.” A sizzling pause. “You’ve played my games?”
Caught! “Once or twice,” she admitted. For years she’d fought—and lost—an addiction to “Donkey Kong.” Barrels! The lady! Her dad taught her how to play, their special time together, and, well, winning became an obsession.
As soon as she’d learned of West’s accomplishments, she’d maybe kinda sorta rushed out to buy his greatest hits. “Alice in Zombieland.” “Lords of the Underworld.” “Angels of the Dark.” “Everlife.” Used, of course, because she couldn’t afford new.
“Evil is always afoot,” she added, “but the good guys always save the day.”
His frown returned, deepened. “Let’s listen to the radio.” He jacked up the volume.
Didn’t like her observations? “Giving you the silent treatment won’t be a problem,” she called over the music.
“Really? Because you’re still talking.”
“Oh, that wasn’t talking. This is.” For the rest of the drive, she chatted about nothing. Loudly. The weather, her love of donuts, the price of thongs—so little material should cost less!—and finally, her last gynecological exam.
They reached the diner just as she got to the part about the cold speculum. He parked in back and sighed with relief when she quieted.
Rather than waiting for him to open her door—would he? wouldn’t he?—she jumped out.
“Do you have to move like that?” West called as he emerged.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re in heat.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t like, don’t watch.”
“Impossible,” he might or might not have muttered.
What the heck!
The other couples were already inside, seated at a rickety table in back, next to a Christmas tree. Ugh. Christmas. Her least favorite holiday was only three and a half weeks away. She and Brook Lynn would have to celebrate—again—without their parents.
Hate the holidays!
Despite the holly-jolly decorations, Jessie Kay fell in love with the diner at first glance. The red vinyl booths and black-and-white-tiled floor charmed her. Though the mint-green walls were cracked and crumbling, and there were water stains on the ceiling, the flaws only added character. Life had happened here. And really, how could you complain about anything when the smell of hamburgers, bacon and chili dogs saturated the air?
Only two chairs were free at the table, and of course, they were right next to each other.
West pulled one out for her, his gentlemanly ways shocking her all over again.
“Thank you,” she muttered
