Page 34 of Bad Blood Wolf

Chapter 13

Jasmin couldn’t believe Brody had stayed. After she’d gone jag in the middle of the night, she’d figured he’d take off. But he stuck around and helped her make dinner, made friends with the crew, and insinuated himself easily in arguments about sports and debates over TV shows and assassination techniques.

That place inside her that had gone all warm and squishy last night still bubbled with feeling. She didn’t quite know what to do with that.

She liked having Brody here.

She didn’t know what to do with that, either.

She could feel him watching her at odd moments. She knew he wanted something from her—some kind of relationshippy thing that she was pretty sure she didn’t know how to do. She kept waiting for him to get bored and leave, but he didn’t.

Instead, he offered to take her over to the bar and pick up Flynn’s truck. But when they got to the turnoff, he went on by.

Jasmin twisted her head and watched it disappear. “You know it was that way, right?”

“I know. We’re going to town first.”

She frowned. “What for?”

“I’m taking you to lunch.”

“What, like a date?” Jasmin felt a little flash of panic. She didn’t do dates. She didn’t know how to do dates.

“Yes,” Brody said. “Exactly like a date. We’re going to my favorite restaurant, and we’re having food there, for which I will pay. Datelike.”

“You should have asked me first.”

“You would have said no.”

True.

Jasmin tried again. “I hate eating at restaurants. The food pisses me off because I’m always thinking about how I could do it better.”

Brody grinned. “Excellent. Tell Toni that. He’s the owner—he loves to talk cooking. He’s the one who taught me how to wield a knife.”

Huh. It might be kind of fun to talk to a restaurant owner. But not on a date. She felt like she was on a roller coaster that was just cresting the big hill at the beginning of the ride.

“This isn’t a date,” she insisted.

“Yep, it is. I’m working up to being your boyfriend.” He reached over and took her hand.

Jasmin pulled it away, like a cat that hates having its paws touched. “You’re not going to be my boyfriend. It makes it sound like we’re in high school.”

“Fine.” Brody was still smiling. “What do you prefer? Lover? Paramour? Fuck buddy?” She just shook her head.

He reached over and took her hand again. She pulled it away. “Stop doing that.”

“I thought you liked it when I touch you.”

She did like it. She loved the feel of his hands, the warmth of his skin. His easy affection made her jag want to wind herself around him and purr.

But it made her feel soft inside. Warm and squishy and pliable, like she’d do anything he wanted.

“It’s too… boyfriendy.”

He bit his lips, obviously trying not to laugh.

“I want to do tons of boyfriendy things,” he said. “I want to buy you ice cream, and flowers, and stupid little presents. I want to take you on dates. I want to take you dancing. I want to rub your feet when you’re tired and make out with you in the movies and go in one of those photo booths and make faces at the camera, and stick the pictures in the corner of my bedroom mirror so I can look at them every time I get dressed.”