wouldn’t want that,” she said, but it was too late. It was written all over her face. “Thanks for the ride home. And dinner.”
“My pleasure.” And boy, did he mean that. He walked to the door and pulled his wool coat on. Clare met him in the foyer.
“Do you need a ride to work tomorrow?” he asked her.
“I can use my aunt’s car until she gets back next week. I don’t like relying on other people.”
“And you’re afraid that someone will see us together and get the wrong idea.” Or the right one.
She folded her arms across what he was sure were a perfect pair of breasts. And he would know soon enough. “We never did discuss Janey.”
“Good night, Parker.”
He winked. “Good night, hot stuff.”
Her eye roll was the last thing he saw as she closed the door. Oh, yeah, she was definitely into him. As if there had ever been a question.
* * *
Clare lay awake half the night, and the other half she spent dreaming about Parker. It was as if she couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard she tried. Not even when she was sleeping. He was starting to get under her skin. And that was a very bad thing.
The absence of any physical contact between them had been her secret weapon, but he’d taken care of that, hadn’t he? The warm weight of his palm against her cheek had been unexpected and startling and so erotic that the resulting surge of estrogen had short-circuited the logic pathways in her brain. It was a wonder smoke hadn’t billowed out of her ears. She had been positive that he was going to kiss her, then he didn’t and she didn’t quite understand why.
She got out of bed late, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and dressing in her warmest jogging outfit. According to the weather report she had seen online last night, the daytime high would barely break thirty degrees. She was so ready for spring and warmer weather.
Her breath crystalized and the icy air burned her lungs as she stepped out the back door onto the multilevel deck. She crossed the yard to a gate, which led right to the jogging path.
She was getting warmed up, stretching her hamstrings, when she heard a familiar voice, using a really bad fake Southern accent.
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