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“Next time.” She grinned.
“Never.”
“I’m driving this car.” She needed to check it off her bucket list. It had nothing to do with him.
His voice dropped. “What are you willing to do for the privilege?”
For one second she let herself say what she really wanted. She batted her lashes. “The things I would do to drive this car are illegal and depraved.”
He shook his head. “You are all kinds of trouble.”
What was it about him that clouded her brain? She licked her lips, unable to resist the flirtation. “You have no idea.”
He pointed to the car. “Get in before I throw you over the hood.”
“Like you’d ruin the paint.” She flipped her hand and turned her back on him, walking around the car to the passenger’s side.
He looked at her over the roof. In the late sun his cheekbones looked cut from granite. “It might be worth it.”
The impulse to say something wicked sat in her throat, but she’d indulged enough. So she smiled. “Ryder?”
“Yes, Sophie?” A muscle clenched in his jaw.
“I’m driving this car.”
