I mean, yeah, I’m a bit intrigued by her and I think she’s beautiful, but so what? Some men like a challenge. I’m not one of them. I’ve always embraced the philosophy of working smarter, not harder.
Why expend my energy chasing after women who don’t seem interested in me when I can easily find one who is?
Especially in Darkwater Hollow. Sometimes, all I have to do is breathe in their direction, and they start panting.
But not Blake.
Why the hell not? What is it that she doesn’t like?
My looks can’t be the problem, so it must be my personality, but how can it be my personality if she doesn’t even know me?
No, it must be my reputation that’s got her panties in a knot. She alluded to it last time. Why does she care about how and who I spend my time with? It just doesn’t make sense.
There’s some stubborn part of me that wants to figure that shit out and see if I can change her mind.
You promised Sandro to take it easy, remember?
Right.
When we get inside the truck, Blake clears her throat. “Thanks. You really came to my rescue back there.”
“No problem. It’s not like it’s out of my way.”
Did I think she’d be at Frostbite when I decided to come here in the middle of a fucking snowstorm? I may have suspected it given her car wasn’t in her driveway.
But I didn’t come hereforher. That would be ridiculous. And I hadn't intended on offering her a ride home until I saw her boss.
I didn’t like his face, or his voice, or anything about him. I sure as fuck didn’t like the way he looked at her like he owned her. And when he kept insisting on driving her when she clearly wanted nothing to do with him, I had no choice but to intervene.
I turn on the ignition. “I like to do the occasional good deed to make up for my many sins. Something tells me you’re keeping a list of them.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You seem determined not to like me. The problem is I’m a pretty likable guy.” A smirk tugs on my lips. “You making a list of all of my perceived wrongs would help keep you on track.”
She lets out an annoyed sigh. “You’re right. This interaction alone is giving me ideas for a few bullet points.”
I chuckle and glance over at her. She hasn’t buckled up. “Are you ready to go or…”
She arches a brow, oblivious to the fact. “Yes. Why?”
I sigh, undo my belt, and reach across her. “I know women tend to get flustered around me, but please try to keep your head on straight. We’re about to drive in dangerous conditions.” I grasp the belt buckle suspended by her head and draw it toward me, my knuckles accidentally brushing over the tip of her breast in the process.
She sucks in a breath.
I ignore the electric jolt to my groin and slide her buckle in with a sharp click. “There.”
Her eyes lock on mine, and some color spreads over her cheeks.
So she’s not totally immune to me.
Oh, I could do it. I could have this prickly bartender under me in less than a week if I wanted to.
I smirk and pull away to clip my own belt back in.
She clears her throat. “If you were looking for an excuse to cop a feel, you could have gone for something a bit more subtle.”
My smirk melts right off. Heat prickles across the back of my neck.
