Page 22 of Zero Tolerance


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“What are you thinking?”

I ripped my focus off her pink mouth, realizing she’d almost finished her Italian sub when I’d barely eaten any of my cheese steak. Clearing my throat didn’t help the heat I could feel creeping over my cheeks.

“Wait.” Jasmine huffed a little laugh. “Are you…embarrassed?”

Rolling my eyes, I lifted my head. I raised an eyebrow.

She smirked. “Don’t give me that look.” Her napkin hit me in the face, and we both laughed. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” I stalled.

“What made you flush just now.”

“You don’t want to know.” I took a bite of my sub to keep from having to talk.

She eyed me as though trying to read my thoughts. Good luck with that.

Jasmine toyed with a length of hair hanging over her shoulder, and I honed in on the action, breathing deep for a scent of freshness and flowers.

She flirted with me.

The little minx.

I lifted my focus to her face again but didn’t lift my brow in question. I simply stared. Pink staining her cheekbones as I studied her in the suddenly tense silence. “What do you want, Jasmine?” I asked, breaking before she did.

“I…I’m not sure.” She glanced away, dropping her hand from her hair.

“Hey.”

Her focus flitted back to me.

“I’ll follow your cues,” I murmured. “Always.”

The tip of her tongue flicked out over her lower lip, and I bit back a groan. “Can we…be friends?”

“I’d like to think that we already are.”

“I mean…” she waved her hand over the table we’d shared a lot in the previous couple of weeks. “More than business talk. I’d like to know things about you.”

“Okay.” I wiped my mouth and pushed my sub away, crossing my arms across the table. “What about?”

Her mouth opened, and she snapped it shut.

Chuckling, I took pity on her. “My name is Micah Jonathan Fox. I’m thirty-six years old, love fast cars, making money, and living every day to its fullest. I don’t have a dog although I’ve always wanted one. I can do without cats—allergic—and the idea of a hairless one makes me shudder. Red is my favorite color, I love lobster but am partial to king crab legs. I’m not a huge fan of snow, so I splurged on a place in Cancun where I escape for a few weeks every winter. I watch sports and listen to talk radio probably more than I should, enjoy a horror flick on occasion, and believe it or not—I’ll nab one of my mom’s romance novels when I’m feeling all sentimental and shit.”

“You forgot about your nightlife.”

I barked a laugh, loving how Jasmine had propped her chin in her hand, elbow resting atop the table while I spilled a bunch of worthless shit about my life. “That’s not something friends discuss.”

She lifted an eyebrow like I was fond of doing, and I laughed again.

“Tell me about you.”

“I’m twenty-four, have two big sisters, my parents are conservative and protective…I too read romance novels and want a dog. I hate cats—they’ve got too much of an attitude. I like the snow but not the cold, and I’ve never been outside of the country although I dream about traveling the world. I see a therapist for my touch issues every other week, and she says I ought to take you up on your offer to help test myself.”

Well. Shock me mute.

Jasmine slid her gaze over my face, stopping at my lips.

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