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“Go away, Dax. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” Jess mumbles.

“No. I drove all this way, and you aren’t getting a pass right now. I need you to talk to me. Please. I can’t leave things this way.”

Her mutinous expression softens a fraction with my soft plea.

“There’s nothing to say. I just want to be left alone right now.”

Her shoulders are slumped and she looks completely defeated, but I know the real Jess is hiding in there somewhere. I just need to get through to her, remind her that she’s not the type of person to take shit from anyone.

“Fine. I’ll just camp out on the porch until you agree to talk to me.”

“You? Camp out? I don’t think so,” she scoffs.

I point to the swing in the corner of the porch. “Looks like a pretty comfy bed to me. I’ll do it, though I’d prefer if you’d just come out and talk to me.”

With a sigh, she steps out the front door. “Okay. I guess we owe each other that. I have a lot going on though, so just a few minutes.”

I look around at the sleepy house and yard and can’t for the life of me figure out what she has going on, not that I’m about to say that out loud. At least I’m getting her out of the house.

“Thank you. Before we talk, we have a little matter to settle between us. I believe you won a bet against me, and I’m here to pay up.”

“What are you talking about?”

I step to the side so that she can see my baby behind me. My beautiful, just-washed-and-waxed Shelby Mustang. “Remember? You’re supposed to drive my Scarlet.”

The tiniest peek of a smile appears on her face. “That was a silly bet. I’m not driving your car. You’d probably cry like a baby if I got a scratch on her.”

I take her hand, and she allows me to lead her down the porch stairs and toward the car. “You’re going to turn away the opportunity to drive her? I’ve never allowed anyone else to drive her. This is a huge privilege I’m giving you.”

She points to the shifter. “It’s a manual transmission. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.”

She tries to turn away, but I don’t loosen my grip on her hand.

I purse my lips. “Good point,” I say slowly. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about that. Well, I can’t let you learn on poor Scarlet. She’s delicate. For now, I’ll drive, and you can be my passenger. Later on, I’ll teach you to drive a manual on one of my other cars. Then you can drive Scarlet. Deal?”

“I’m not going for a drive with you right now,” she says in a voice that lacks any real heat.

I pull her over to the car door, open it, and usher her in with a confidence I’m not sure I feel. “Yeah. You are. Just a short drive.”

I almost expect her to refuse, so when she gets into the car, my insides do a little dance. Sure, she makes a big show of being huffy and inconvenienced as she does it, but Jess never does something she doesn’t want to do.

I get into the driver’s seat and start the car. Scarlet roars to life.

“What happened to your hands?” Jess asks suddenly.

I look down at my bruised knuckles and flex them. I give her a sheepish smile. “That’s what happens when your fists connect to a hard object.”

She raises her eyebrows in question. “What hard object did your fists connect to?”

I step on the clutch and put the car into gear. “Someone’s face.”

Her eyes are wide and incredulous. “Whose face?”

“He threw the first punch, just so you know. I was simply defending myself.”

“You hit Anth—I mean, the guy whose name I’m not supposed to say? Is that who you hit?”

I shrug and try to hide my smile as I pull out onto the road. “Several times. I’m not going to lie. It felt pretty damn good, and I’m not at all sorry about it.”