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He looks more than a man. He looks like a man who knows what he’s capable of.
“Girl, you’re making me crazy, you realize that?”
I feel my cheeks redden. “How crazy?”
“Am I gonna have to pull this truck over and show you?”
I laugh, thinking that is exactly what I want.
The thought is shocking. I never, ever get frisky the way I want. The way I imagine. Maybe I’ve just been with the wrong men. Maybe I need a man who wants to teach a girl a thing or two.
“Sorry, I was just distracted.”
At this he grins, knowing I was distracted by him. Am I that obvious?
“I’m trying to get out some samples,” I explain. “They need to be postmarked today.”
“For your job?”
“Yeah, I have a shop on Etsy?”
“I’ve heard of that, artsy-fartsy shit, right? Crafts and stuff?”
I purse my lips together. “As a matter of fact, I have a fine arts degree. And I take my job seriously.”
My words cause the corners of his mouth to curl up into a smile.
“I’m sure you do.”
Just who does this man think he is? My nostrils flare. “Are you being condescending?”
“Not at all darling. It’s sexy. I’m picturing you as a college student, hair in a bun, pencil between your teeth. I can dig it.”
“I know you’re hoping for a quick lay, I see it in your eyes, Moxon. But I’m not interested. I don’t want a player, I want a real man.”
“Oh, and what makes a man real?” His words are slow and steady and make my core buzz with exhilaration.
I want what I shouldn’t. And right now, I don’t even feel bad about it.
Yes, if I am talking about forever, I want the whole nine yards; but right now, I’m thinking Moxon is too much to pass up.
But I’ll make him work for it.
“Easy,” I say crossing my legs and leaning my body towards his. “I want a man with a big house and a nine-to-five job that comes with a retirement package. A man who owns a suit and tie.” All things my father expects for me.
He rolls his eyes and for some reason I like it. The idea of pushing his buttons. I don’t mean what I say, I just want to see if I can rile him up. I don’t care about being a member of a country club. I just want a man who provides a life full of love and support.
I won’t tell him that though.
I continue, “A real man who is totally put together, who wants to mow the lawn on Saturday and have two point five kids and a picket fence. A real man is someone who wants to fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after.”
If those words don’t scare a man like this, I don’t know what would. I’m guessing he’s more interested in getting a woman out of her pants than knocking one up.
But it’s time to pull out all the stops and really make him squirm.
“A real man would show up on Valentine’s Day with a dozen red roses and reservations. That’s the kind of man I want.”
“You know Valentine’s Day is just a lie invented by the greeting card industry,” he says pulling off the highway and turning into the FedEx parking lot.
At this, my lighthearted teasing turns to indignation. I scowl, pointing a finger. “Just so you know, I am in the greeting card industry. And I take offense to that.”
“You’re in the greeting card industry? What does that mean exactly?”
“I make greeting cards. For the industry. That’s my job.” I point to the FedEx envelopes in the tote bag at my feet. “That’s what I’m delivering. Greeting cards for a prospective distributor. A distributor who sends cards to customers. Customers who want to send sweet notes to the people they care about in this world. It’s not an invention, it’s my livelihood.”
“Well, honey pie,” he says slowly, shaking his head. The grin on his face making me both hot and bothered. “I love that you take your job seriously. And I like that you’re so passionate about what you do.”
He completely glossed over my “real man” monologue.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
He puts his truck in park and leans his head back on the headrest as if he’s never been more comfortable in his life. Meanwhile, my body is tingling, and I feel ready to pounce or explode… probably both.
“Tell me,” he says. “When you went on and on about your real man, was there anything in that speech that was true?”
“You know nothing about me.”
He looks up and moans as he takes me in. “Oh, Millie, I know enough.”
I purse my lips together, considering how I want to answer, knowing I am already melting. The way he said my name was so damn smooth. So absolutely sexy, that I forget all reason.
