at me like that.”
She wanted to ask, “Like what?” but had a feeling she knew what he was talking about. She was probably looking at him as if he were the one man on earth she had to have.
He shifted so that he was facing front, his ankle resting on his opposite knee. He draped an arm around her, drawing her close.
“Let’s pick a more neutral topic,” he suggested. “And if you could speak in a squeaky voice, that would help, too.”
She laughed. “What’s wrong with my regular voice?”
“It’s sexy.”
She cleared her throat, suddenly unable to think of anything to say. “You never did tell me about your date.”
“And I’m not going to.”
“Any dates planned in the future?”
He glanced at her, his dark eyes bright with amusement. “Could we not talk about me dating?”
“Sure. Um, the carnival is coming to town in a few weeks.”
“Your carnival? The people who taught you to hate townies?”
“Yes, and they didn’t teach me that. I learned on my own.”
“Will someone show me how to tame a lion?”
“That’s the circus. This is the rides and games.”
“I always did like a good Tilt-A-Whirl.”
“Then you’ll have to go on it.”
“You coming with me?”
She shook her head. “They make me throw up.”
“Lightweight.”
“Townie.”
He laughed. He might have a thing for her voice, but she liked the sound of his laughter. It made her feel safe and happy, as did pressing against him, with his arm around her.
All dangerous, she thought. Good thing she wasn’t the type to fall in love.
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