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“It’s eighteen months old.” Hitting the auto start button and switching the engine on, I slide the shifter into reverse and back out of the space I made for us. “She only looks new because I use her about once a month, which is how often I have time to chill the hell out.”
“Of course she’s a she.” Sitting back with a huff and folding her arms to combat the chill, Minka slides one leg over the other so her dress slides up and reveals enough of her thigh to make me desperate. “And what was that thing you said about being a broke cop? Broke cops don’t drive new trucks.”
I shrug and head north, toward our destination. “I rarely waste money, and I save up for what I want. You look fucking beautiful, by the way.”
Stunned, her cheeks warm and her gaze swings to mine. Hungry. Amused. “Thank you. Where are we going?”
“City Hall. We can get married for three hundred bucks in under ten minutes.”
“Wait.” Shooting up tall in her seat, Minka turns to me and reveals that much more of her legs. “What? What the hell are you—”
“No?” Snorting, I downshift as we come to a set of traffic lights. “You don’t want to marry me?”
“Archer!”
“So just dinner, then?” I laugh, and when the light turns green and traffic starts again, I cross the intersection and continue on.
“I lied about having a reservation, by the way. Mostly, I just wanted you to wear a dress for me.” Reaching out and setting my free hand on the back of her neck, I smirk when she sighs and relaxes into my touch.
She could’ve slapped me away. Gotten mad about the restaurant. Told me to fuck myself and my marriage proposal. But instead, she melts into my hand and closes her eyes.
“I don’t even care.” Exhaling, she purrs when my fingers go to work massaging the back of her neck. “I wanted to spend the night with you anyway, so I don’t really care where we go.”
“Are you hungry?” Pleased, I sit back in my seat and relax so my legs drop wide, but my comfort is fleeting, as Minka unsnaps her belt and flings it aside.
We’re still moving, and slow as traffic may be, she won’t be safe if I have to slam on the brakes.
“What the fuck are you—”
Wordlessly, she scoots to the middle of the bench seat and refastens her belt. Then, as my arm drapes over her shoulder and my hand rests somewhere below her tits, she turns toward me and presses her lips to my neck. Her teeth to my flesh.
“Shit,” I breathe the word and close my eyes, if only for a second. “Minka.”
“I’m scared of loving you.” She creates magic with her tongue and torture with her teeth, but her words are on an entirely different wavelength. “I’ve gone my entire life needing no one but myself. And now you want me to be the kind ofin lovethat makes it impossible to put myself back together again if something happens to you. So when I tell you no, it’s because I’m afraid. When I snap at you about the marriage stuff, it’s because you scare the shit out of me.”
“Babe—”
“Keep driving.”
When I switch lanes, intending to pull onto a quiet street, Minka reads my thoughts and slides her hand into my lap to cup my cock. Then she bites my shoulder. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable, and it’s insanely difficult for me to admit I have fears. So don’t stop driving. Don’t make this weird.”
“Minka.” I only have one free hand, so I bring it to the back of her neck and stretch my fingers around to control the direction she looks.
I force her to face me, though I can only give her the side of my face. But when I can spare a second to look away from traffic, I meet her gaze—and frown when I find barely-concealed terror. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she chokes out. “That’s the damn problem.”
The desperation in her tone, the disgust at what she’s forced to admit, brings a wrinkle to my lips.
“Believe it or not, most people celebrate love. It’s usually considered something to be happy about. And it’sFebruary,” I add. “The month of love.”
“Yeah, unless you’re us,” she counters. “Then you’ve got a cop who escaped a dangerous family, and a woman who chooses danger over safety. Tell me that’s not heartache waiting to happen?”
“I hope it’s not.”
Despite her request that I keep driving, I pull off the main street and slow on the outskirts of City Park. Steering us into a parking space on the dark end of the park so we’re not illuminated for anyone else to see, I cut the engine and unsnap my belt.
Immediately, I turn and cup Minka’s face in my hands. “I’m sticking.” Leaning in, I press a kiss to her jaw. And though we both know it wobbles with emotion, it goes unmentioned.
