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“Noted.” He nodded as if accepting some kind of challenge.
Lord, not another one of those guys. Except from him, the idea of being chased sounded thrilling. Huh. Why had it only annoyed me when Diego wanted to pursue me, but it made my belly flip with eagerness just to think about this guy doing so? Gah. The human heart was strange. It wanted what it wanted, and fuck everything else. Especially logic.
Once I had his exorbitant tip in my possession and my purse was slung over my shoulder, I led the way outside, only to glance over my shoulder when he asked, “Have you ever had a car?”
“Of course,” I told him. “But Papá and I had to sell our vehicles to catch up on bills.”
“Who’s—” He paused suddenly, his mouth still open to finish his question, but I sliced him with a warning glance, and he swallowed whatever he was going to say, only to revise it with, “That’s quite a walk every day.”
We paused at his sedan, where he opened the passenger side door for me.
“Helps me reach my steps,” I answered before slipping inside.
Once I was settled in, he shut my door for me and walked around to the driver’s side. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he moved with the confident grace of someone used to leading and getting his way. While a part of me wanted to butt heads with him and challenge him, teach him he was not the top dog with me, another part admired the sturdy reliability of his dominant presence. A person could count on his kind of leadership. If they didn’t strangle him first because of his attitude.
He was definitely a contradictory type of man.
That intrigued me.
“By the way,” I said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “We need to pick up my brother from his after-school care on the way.”
“Do we?” He seemed more amused than annoyed by my announcement. “And where does he attend school?”
“Lakeside Elementary. Pick up is on the corner of Adams and College.”
Nodding without a word of complaint, he started the car.
I perused the interior of his ride to keep myself occupied before spotting a familiar clear package with familiar gold designs on it sitting in the cubby between our seats.
“Oh, hey. You got cookies from Kaitlynn too.”
He sent me a startled glance. “What?”
I lifted the bag and shook it. “She brought a package of these to the flower shop yesterday. I guess she was handing out goodies to everyone.” Fluttering my lashes at him, I said, “Aww, you must’ve made her special list.” Then I paused, squinting at him. “Why are you looking at me as if I have eight eyes?”
Shaking his head, he focused on the cookies. “Because I found those on my desk yesterday morning when I went into work. I had no idea where they’d come from.”
“Oh!” I smiled. “Well, surprise. They’re from Kaitlynn.”
“Huh.” Frowning as if confused, he glanced at me for guidance before returning his attention to the cookies. “But why would she give me cookies?”
His bewilderment was endearing. Leaning toward him because I couldn’t seem to stay away, I murmured, “Well, rumor is you’re her stepbrother, so I don’t know, maybe that had something to do with it.”
His gaze shot up to meet mine, and something strangely hopeful glittered in their depths. I wasn’t too sure what that was about, but it seemed a little too achy and meaningful to delve into too deeply. So I jiggled the bag in his face. “Since you haven’t eaten any yet, can I have them? Kaitlynn’s cookies are to die for.” I was a little jealous I hadn’t found any in my mailbox.
“Hell no.” He snagged them from my hand and immediately began to unwrap the package for himself. “I hadn’t tried them yet because I had no idea who they were from; they could’ve been laced with anything. But now that I know they’re safe—” He lifted his forearm to block me when I tried to reach for one. “Back off, woman. Chocolate chip’s my favorite.”
As he popped the first cookie in, I lifted my eyebrows with challenge.
He demolished two before my narrow-eyed glare won him over. With a put-upon sigh, he rolled his eyes and held up the bag. “Okay, fine. We can share.”
“Thank you.” Perking back to life, I smiled and snagged the bag, immediately fishing out my own cookie.
Still licking crumbs from his fingers, he pulled into traffic.
“Before we meet with Lana tonight,” he said as I broke the last cookie in half and handed him his part. “We need to get our stories straight.”
“Stories?” I shook my head, munching in confusion. “What stories?”
