“I’ll get us an Uber,” I offered.
“No need,” he said as he stood. “I’ll drive.”
My emotions swirled in technicolor, and my mouth went dry. “Okay. Sure.”
He placed his hand on the small of my back as he guided me toward the door. My eyes found his as we stepped out into the cool, rainy night air, causing me to miss the step down from the sidewalk. He caught my arm, his touch sending a ricochet of electricity through my veins.
His lips quirked, and for half a second I wondered if he felt it too. Then I remembered who he was—but more importantly, who Iwasn’t.
My attention followed him as he jogged ahead to get the car door for me. Maybe it didn’t matter if I ended up just another notch on his leather belt as long as he used said belt to bind my wrists together before—
“Hop in,” he said, interrupting the X-rated movie playing in my head.
Don’t mind if I do.
“Are you cold?”Luca asked over the sound of the radio and the splatter of rain on the windshield of his Tesla. We’d driven the first five minutes or so in silence, with the exception of the GPS interjecting with directions.
“No,” I answered. Quite the opposite, in fact. The feeling of Luca’s hand on my arm had ignited a fire in my belly that could’ve taken out entire continents.
“You sure?” He nodded toward my lap where my fingers were stuffed under my thighs to prevent myself from pawing him like a tigress in heat.
I placed my hands on top of my hoodie that was laid across my legs and fiddled with the drawstring.
“So, a Tesla, huh?” I asked, snark coating my words. “I thought only assholes drove those.”
“Well, if memory serves, youdidsay I was an asshole.” A grin formed along his mouth in the faint glow of oncoming headlights.
“To be fair, I never actuallysaidthat,” I replied. “But I did think it a few times.”
“You still think I’m a dick?” He glanced over at me, his eyes shimmering with mischief.
“Hmm,” I said, pretending to consider it. “The jury’s still out, but I’ll get back to you.”
“You do that,” he said as he entered the on-ramp of the interstate. “So, tell me what else I need to know about you, McKenzie. Besides the fact that you have good taste in music and an iron liver.”
“Who says you need to know anything about me?” I asked, my tone coy and flirtatious.
“Maybe I don’t need to,” he said as the car picked up speed. “But I want to.”
My cheeks flamed. “What do you want to know?”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Right here.”
“Weird,” he said. “I don’t remember a cute chick with a smart mouth coming with my car. Were you in the glove compartment?”
“I meant Nashville, you ass.” I kept my focus forward, pretending I wasn’t reeling from the fact that he’d just called me cute. “I went to school over in West Nashville. My mom still lives there in the house I grew up in.”
“Do you have any other family around?”
My chest tightened. “Just her. What about you?”
“You already know everyone I consider family.”
I sensed there was more to the story, but it didn’t feel right to ask.
“What do you like to do when you’re not baking at the restaurant or drinking all of our buddy Freddy’s liquor?” he teased.
