Why can’t I find someone like you?”
It was his turn to laugh. “Careful what you wish for. I thought I’d have to plug Trace’s eyes back in his head when he saw you.”
She let out an unladylike snort. “Guys like him? Uh-uh. Hot? Yes. But he knows it. Uses it. No, thank you. I’ve had my share of those dogs. No more. I’m done.”
“You’re sure about that?” Remarkably cheered, Matt glanced over at her. “Because I don’t think you made yourself clear.”
She brought her head up. “You’re an ass.”
Matt just smiled. She’d called him worse. “I think you’re wrong about Trace.”
“Are you kidding me? Didn’t you see the way he was flirting with those two women?”
“I saw him being polite. The blonde was doing the flirting. But I reckon it doesn’t matter.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured and stared off mutely into the darkness beyond her window. A few seconds later she asked, “How far away are we?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Want to go to the Watering Hole?”
“You’re gonna turn into a drunk trying to put off meeting Wallace.”
“So?” She paused. “What do you think? Watering Hole?”
“I’m not dying to see him either, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” She fidgeted a minute, and then turned on the radio. Only garbled voices blasted from the speakers, so she obsessively pressed buttons.
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