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The ladies go for cocky Tucker. Acting cocky usually keeps anybody from looking below the surface because they accept I amthatguy.
Now, there is a sassy spitfire that makes me want to lower my shield so she canseeme.
Where I am cocky, she hides behind sassy, and she’s a worthy opponent to banter with, but I feel there are many more layers to Hamlet she hides behind, always employing evasive tactics. She’s like me. We have our secrets we hold close to our chests.
I’ll have to wake sleeping beauty soon to get her home address. Sure, I could snoop in her wallet for some identification like her driver’s license, but that would only serve to make her angry and won’t win me a date. Showing Hamlet she can trust me by requesting her details from her lips might get me that date.
She knows I‘m a musician, which doesn’t seem to impress her, so our first date will have to be creative and memorable.
My mind wanders through a field of ideas until ten minutes later, Hamlet’s phone comes alive, where it rests on the seat near her knees.
Hamlet keeps right on sleeping through the noise.
Is answering her phone going too far? But it could be important.
Aand you just keep telling yourself that.
Some days you must live dangerously, plus my fingers possess a mind of their own, reaching for it before I can stop them.
Damn grabby hand.
I check the caller ID.Chance.My hand grips the steering wheel tighter.
What are the chances Chance is a dude—pun intended? I mean, ‘Hamlet’ is a dude’s name, so the probability is high, but not a certainty because sleeping beauty next to me isn’t a dude.
I tap the speaker button and place the phone on the narrow shelf of the dashboard.
“Hey, sweetheart—”
Yep, a dude with an Aussie accent.
“—what time do you think you’re going to arrive home?”
Sweetheart?Ugh, that’s not what I want to hear.Home?
She said she didn’t have a boyfriend.
A lover?
A brother?
A gay friend? I like the sound of that one better.
No time like the present to find out. “Hey there,dude.”
There’s a pregnant pause on the line.
“Where is my—?”
The phone gets snatched from the dashboard. “Hey, Chance.” Hamlet sounds half asleep. “I’m here.” She adds a yawn. “Everything okay?” Hamlet isn’t too tired to scowl at me.
I shrug, raising my right hand as though to state the obvious that she was asleep. “Bonus service,” I whisper while she covers the phone with her hand. “Taking calls while my passenger is asleep is going above and beyond the call for this chauffeur. But I do what I can where I can.” I add a wink.
She mutters inaudible words, turning her head to look out the window as though that will afford her privacy.
“Honeybunch, why is there a man answering your phone, and why do you sound half asleep?Honeybunch?“Second thoughts, you’re a grown-up, and if you are playing at hot monkey sex in the arvo, it’s none of my business.”
Hamlet groans, playing with her ponytail.
