Page 102 of Stealing Home


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We jump apart. The guy who had been making the coffee steps between us, reaching in for a water. Mia widens her eyes. They’re sparkling, thanks to the light overhead. Her smile takes my fucking breath away.

When the guy leaves, I say, “I catalog your smiles, you know.”

“What?”

I didn’t mean for that to slip out, but fuck it. We’re rolling with it. “Whether it’s a real smile or one you’re putting on. If it’s a smile to try and shut me up, or an invitation, or genuine happiness.”

Her smile widens. “What am I doing right now?”

“Oh, it’s genuine.”

“You sound confident.”

“You always smile for real after I kiss you.”

She pokes me hard in the ribs. “Weirdo.”

“I don’t hear a denial in there.”

She flounces past me, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I follow her to the counter, but I don’t see the woman from before.

“Where do you think she went?”

She shrugs as she looks around. “Ooh, an intercom.”

“I dare you to say something into it.”

She snorts. “Seriously?”

“Or you can tell me what’s going on with your family.”

She turns in another circle, but apparently decides the coast is clear, because she presses the button on the control, pulls the microphone over to her, and says, “Number seventeen, Sebastian Callahan, also known as Big Daddy, stepping up to bat.”

Her ridiculous nickname nearly makes me fall over with laughter. “Mia.”

“Standing at six-foot-two, a hundred sixty pounds, his bat is the biggest part of all—”

“Miss,” the woman drawls as she walks back to the counter. “Don’t touch the intercom.”

* * *

“Was that the big adventure?”Mia asks when we’re back in my Jeep. “A junk food raid, plus getting kicked out of”—she cranes her neck to peer at the neon sign—“24-Hour Drug?”

I turn on the car and check my mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. “No way. A late-night adventure always has multiple parts. We haven’t even started the game, officially.”

“What game?”

“Truth or dare, of course.”

She turns to me. I keep my eyes on the road, but relish in the way her hand clasps over my thigh. “You didn’t give me a choice!”

“Sure, I did. You could have given me the truth, but you chose the dare.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” She rubs her thumb over my jeans, an unconscious little motion. “Where are we going?”

“Depends if you choose truth or dare next.”

“I don’t get to ask you first?”

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