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11
Brick pulled up into the parking spot behind the library.
How the fuck had this happened? He’d fully intended to take her home. But then she’d pulled out the big guns.
When he’d told her they were heading back to her place and there was going to be no arguments, she’d pulled out her phone and brought up her brother’s contact, turning the screen around so he could see it.
Brat.
Rich, spoiled brat.
But she’d gotten her way. However, he wasn’t happy about it.
He turned to her as she undid her seatbelt. “We’ll be having a talk about this when we get home.”
She rolled her eyes at him. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Even he could hear how ridiculous he sounded.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned as she moved her hand to the door handle of the truck. She looked tiny sitting in the huge bucket seat. “You need a booster.”
She eyed him warily. As though he was losing it.
Maybe he was.
Maybe he was having some sort of episode or he was in the middle of a nightmare.
“Only a nightmare would explain this,” he muttered.
A flash of pain entered her eyes, and he could have kicked himself. He went to apologize but she held up a finger, pointed at him then at the door imperiously.
“Sure thing, Duchess,” he snarled. “I’ll get right onto it.”
He got out of the truck, slamming the door. Then he paused to take a deep breath.
You’re being ridiculous.
You’re the one who insisted she wait until you opened the door. Now you’re mad at her for wanting you to open the door.
Yes, but it was the way she’d done it that had pissed him off. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Because when she got all sassy and bossy, well, part of him thought it was cute as fuck.
Screwed. He was so screwed.
She didn’t know what had put his panties in a twist this morning, but Mr. Grumpy-Butt had turned into Mr. Unreasonable-Grouchy-Surly-Butt-Pants.
A sigh escaped her as she stared down at the ass encased in those pants.
Damn, it was fine.
Focus, Juliet.
She was over an hour late to work. Her friend nearly got run over by her bodyguard. Although that was more Kiesha’s fault than theirs. Still, it had shaken her when she’d seen Kiesha on the ground. She couldn’t stand for anything else to happen to someone she loved.
Just the thought of it . . .
“Juliet? You okay?” Brick asked in his gruff voice.
What? Like he cared. He’d been like a bear with a sore paw all morning. And worse than usual. Usually, his blunt manner was tempered by an awkward sort of caring. But there was a coldness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Because he thinks you’re a liar.
