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We pulled into his street and he breathed out a sigh of frustration. I could almost hear his brain ticking, trying to work out how he had gotten himself into this situation and how to get himself out of it.
I was also a bit cranky by then; he’d ruined a good night with silly comments. I know he didn’t know me that well, but from my upbringing, from our talks, from my actions towards him, did he really think I was the flirty, sleep around type? That I was just hanging with him for a quick roll in the sack? And was it so bad that his mother liked me, or might give him a hard time to follow me up? How insulting.
“Carla ...” he started, after pulling his car past my parked car on the curb side, and into his driveway.
I cut him off. “Hey, thanks again for taking me to meet your family, and I hope your mother doesn’t give you too much of a hard time about having to like me,” I said, quoting him back. I opened the door and was out before he had his seatbelt off.
For a big guy who professes to be slow, he moved pretty quickly, intercepting me before I got to the back of his car. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
“Hey, I’ve insulted you somewhere along the line there and I didn’t mean to ...” he said, looking down on me.
I shook my head. “It’s all good, really. Anyway, you’ve got training early, so thanks again.” I pulled away. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”
Men! I’m not interested in being a prospect just because I’m different from Leesa; and do I look like I’m a charity case that is looking for a date? Well, I am, but I’m not desperate, I’ve got my stalkers.
He walked down the driveway following me, only a few inches behind me; he said my name again and was clearly uncomfortable with handling an emotional female. “Carla, stop, please.”
I turned around to face him.
“About training, I just said that so we could leave after dinner and not have to stay all night. I have got training early, but that doesn’t mean you have to rush off,” he said. “Come up for a while.”
I’ve always had too much pride, and now I was cutting off my own nose to spite my face. Since the day I had met The Russian, I’d been dreaming of getting closer to him, tasting those lips. Now, I just wanted to smack him – he really was an arrogant, insensitive ass.
“No, I’ve got an early start too. Another time, huh?” I said, throwing the comment over my shoulder as I continued my walk to my car. But as long as my strides were, The Russian’s were longer and he beat me there, opening my car door for me. I lowered myself into the front seat, started the engine and the sexy beast he was, lowered himself down to squat next to me in the open car doorway.
“Brooker, I’m a bit rusty at dating,” he said, “I’d been with my last girlfriend since school, and anyone since has just been ... well, short-lived by mutual agreement. You’ll have to cut me some slack,” he said, with the hint of a smile. He looked divine squatting there in front of me, his dark eyes scanning my face, his muscular arm resting on the steering wheel.
I cocked my head to the side and studied him. “I thought you were the expert on women, having been raised with four at home,” I said, tongue in cheek.
“Apparently I’ve still got a few things to learn,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I want to see you again,” he continued. “We’ve got a bye this weekend, will you come over Friday night and let me cook for you?”
“Can you cook?” I asked, lightening the moment.
“Can I cook!” he scoffed and then reached for his phone. “Can I get Josh’s number before you go?” he referred to my excellent cook of a housemate.
I laughed.
“I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“There’s nothing to makeup, we’re all good,” I said. “Friday night.”
“Friday night,” he repeated, and gave me a smile. He rose and leaned in long enough to brush my lips with his and then he pulled away and closed the car door. He stood back as I drove off.
Served me right for being an idiot. Now I was going home alone, horny, desperately wanting The Russian and it was all my own fault for being so high and mighty! Just kill me now.
