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“Sure of yourself.”
He nodded slightly. “I’m glad that’s what you see.”
“That’s not how it is?” she asked.
“Sure. That’s exactly how it is.” But his voice was hollow.
“I have to go sign the paperwork and pay for the tow,” she murmured.
“You aren’t paying for it. I’ve already talked to the tow yard. The paperwork is signed, and I’ll tow it myself and save youthe fee. Just need to know where your insurance wants it to go. I have a trailer on the back of my truck.”
“W-what? How did you sign for the car?”
He shrugged. “Told them I was your husband. You can buy me a Slurpee as a thank-you.” The slow smile that took his lips was so sexy and self-assured. Something small and subtle fluttered right in her middle.
He’d said he was her husband? Why did that sound so exciting and naughty and forbidden and interesting all at once? “I can cook,” she blurted out.
His left eyebrow arched up. “Cook what?”
“Whatever you like?”
“I am the easiest man on earth to feed. I like it all.”
“Anchovies?” she asked.
“I stand corrected. I don’t like everything. Anchovies are gross.”
She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “As a thank-you for hauling Bertha to the scrapyard, I would like to surprise you with a dinner.” He parted his lips to answer, but she held up a finger. “Wait. There’s rules.”
“What are the rules.”
“If I have you over, you have to realize I have been traumatized by a man. I rented this house a few months ago with the goal of never having anything uncomfortable happen in there, and so you must be nice to me. No arguing or storming out.”
“Ew, was that what your ex did? He was a stormer-outer?” he asked.
“Number two,” she said, trying not to laugh at the term “stormer-outer.” “If you don’t like what I cook, you have to be honest and tell me what I can improve on. I like honesty, I like knowing exactly where I stand, and I like improving.”
“Okay. I can do that. I’ll be upfront with you right now though, I live on bachelor food. It’s corn dogs and pizza rolls and TV dinners at Casa de Wreck. If you made boxed mac and cheese, I would be a fan.”
She giggled. “Fair enough. Number three, this is not a booty-call dinner. There is no pressure on either of us to move too fast. We can be buds if buds are what we’re meant to be.”
He inhaled deeply and nodded, considering. “I’m not into pushing women too far too fast, nor am I looking for a relationship.”
“Player?” she guessed.
“I like to call it being a chronic casual-dater,” he conceded.
“Same difference.”
He belted out a laugh. “Well lucky for us, neither of us is looking for anything more than friendship. We won’t have our feelings hurt when you reject my player advances, and then I remind you not to fall for me because I have commitment issues, and also that I’m dangerous.”
“Oh yeah, that is a big red flag. Shooting flames is something that I would not be able to bring home to mom and dad.”
“Your mom and dad sound like they suck. Maybe you need to bring a flame-thrower to meet them.”
His tone had gone serious. Truth be told, she liked that he was protective. Sasha had been understanding to a point, but she still went and visited their parents every chance she got. It was nice just having someone at her back with no eggs in the family-drama basket.
“I’m going to get the truck,” he said.
