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Work what out? If he left, they would never become anything. “What do you mean? Like a long-distance relationship?”
“Shit, I don’t know. I’m not very good at planning stuff like this. Or talking about my feelings.” He cleared h
is throat. “But I do like you enough to try this thing. Enough to risk another ass-to-window serenade from your son.”
Her breath caught. Oh, God, please no. “He didn’t.”
“He did.”
She groaned. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I’ve been mooned. I don’t think it’s fatal or catching.” He gave her a small smile. “If I go around mooning people, then we’ll worry. Until then, I’m fine.”
She groaned. “When I get home, I’m going to ground him until he dies.”
“From the look on your face, that won’t be very long.” His gaze flicked over her face, leaving behind a warmth that crept down her jaw to her neck. “You didn’t answer me.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask me a question.”
He reached across the table and brushed his fingers beneath her chin, sending chills over her skin. “I’m asking if you want me to stick around for two weeks or not.”
“I—yes. Okay.”
“Just ‘okay’?”
“You’re not the only one who’s not very good at talking about this.”
“Then I’ll take what I can get.” He let go of her hand with one last lingering caress. “Now…on the matter of your shoes. Remind me to give them back before my truck turns into a pumpkin.”
She smiled but shook her head. “I can’t believe I ran out barefoot.”
“Stocking-foot Cinderella.” The way he said the name, rolling each syllable with rumbling amusement and pleasure, made her shiver. “Though I’m no Prince Charming.”
The waitress interrupted them, her ponytail bouncing as she cruised to a halt at their table. “Evening! Can I start you off with a drink?”
Brianna laid her menu on the table. “I’ll have a vodka tonic.”
Thomas raised a brow. “I pegged you for more of a wine girl.”
“I’ll have you know I drink vodka, wear my fat pants on weekends, and look like hell under my makeup just like any other girl.”
He laughed, full and rumbling and deep. He didn’t laugh nearly enough, she thought—as if he didn’t want the world to know when he was happy. If he ever was happy. What was he missing in his life, she wondered, that he was so desperate to hide himself from everyone?
He flashed the waitress a brief, polite smile. “I’ll have the same.” The waitress left after a coy look for Thomas, which he completely ignored. He shook his head. “Vodka tonic. Not very prim and proper.”
“Must I be prim and proper all the time?”
“It’s a refreshing change of pace when you aren’t. And I especially like it when you loosen up enough to call me a prick, like you did the other day.”
“In that case, you’re a prick, in case I hadn’t reminded you lately.” She tilted her head. Time for some questioning of her own. “Did your ex-wife drink wine?”
His face closed over. Brianna suddenly had the feeling she knew exactly how a soldier in the field felt when his foot came down on a land mine, and he didn’t dare lift it. Thomas fixed her with a stony look, then shrugged.
“Yes. She loved it,” he said, his voice rough. “Almost as much as I hate it. The taste irritates me. Just another of the ways we were complete opposites.”
