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No longer concerned about how it would come across, I pressed a button on my steering wheel, enabling the Bluetooth call function on my car.
“Call Bad to the Bones.”
I snorted.
“Calling Bad to the Bones,” the automated voice chimed.
It rang twice and went to voicemail.
“Bones, hey. It’s—uh—Hayden. Hi. Yep. Said that already. Okay, well, call me.”
I hung up.
“Seriously?” I muttered to myself.
I pulled into my driveway and pressed a button to open my garage door. As I was parking, my phone rang.
It was Bones.
My heart immediately tripped with nerves. Which was stupid. I needed to get out of my head.
“What kind of coffee do you drink?” I asked in way of greeting.
He paused. “Anything dark and bold. You okay, Duchess? You sound a little…”
“A little what?”
“Frazzled.”
“I’m not frazzled. I was just wondering if…”
“Wondering if…what?”
“Wondering if you were coming over tonight?” The words felt stilted and stuck in my throat.
He paused again. “Are you asking me to come over tonight?”
“Can’t you answer a simple question?” I demanded.
“Can’t you?”
“Are you smiling? I can hear you smiling.”
He chuckled. “I can come over, but it’ll be late. I’ve got some business to handle tonight.”
I thought of his pistol on the nightstand.
“What time will you be done?” I asked.
“Not sure. Late. After midnight.”
I bit my lip. “Then maybe I’ll just see you tomorrow night. For dinner.”
“All right,” he said easily.
“Bones,” I muttered.
“What? I’m being agreeable. What is it you want? Ask, Duchess.”
