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“Better than you do, lawman.” She stopped to look at him. “If you want to do something useful, send Ollie out to help me. At least he knows what he’s doing under here.”
Biting back a sharp retort about spending his formative years with his nose in a book instead of an engine, Rafe kept his voice even.
“Let me buy you a new car. Something a little more reliable.”
“I don’t need a new car,” she said, jumping back in the driver seat and turning the key. She swore when nothing happened, then slammed the door again.
“Come on, Janie. This car is older than you.”
“So are you, but you don’t see me packingyouoff to the retirement home.”
Rafe huffed out a sigh and threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay,” he said, then got out of her way, deciding to wait for the Jeep to make the decision for her. “I’ll be over here when you’re ready.”
He didn’t know much about cars, but he knew what a dead engine sounded like. It sounded like an angry redhead damning her once faithful steed to Hell for all eternity.
With one final slam of the Jeep’s door, Jane marched straight past him, making a beeline for his car.
“You’re driving me home.” She barked the order at him, then climbed into the passenger seat. Rafe followed her, his shoulders bouncing every step of the way as he tried—and failed—to contain his humour.
Less than ten minutes later, he was pulling into her parents’ driveway. Jane hadn’t said a single word the entire way, so she caught him off guard when she finally spoke.
“I don’t want your charity,” she said quietly, her hands clenched in her lap.
Rafe killed the engine and unfastened his seat belt. “Good. Because I’m not offering it.”
“Then what do you call buying me a car?” she demanded, scowling at him.
“Providing for my family,” he said, turning in his seat to look at her directly. “You need your independence, and you’re going to need a safe, reliable car when the baby comes.” He paused to gauge her reaction, which could best be described as cautious. “May I humbly request you donate your Jeep to science and allow me to buy you a grown-up’s car?”
Bracing himself for an argument, Rafe almost laughed in relief when Jane nodded and said, “Fine. Arse. But I want it on the record that I’m only agreeing to this because it’s best for the baby.”
Biting back a grin, Rafe said, “Duly noted.” Then he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger side, holding the door open and taking Jane’s hand to help her out.
A small frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” she muttered.
He smiled his most charming smile. “It’s called being a gentleman.”
“It’s called being a condescending jerk.”
Rafe shut the door, then crowded Jane against the side of the car, stared down at her pretty face and watched the defiance dance in her emerald eyes.
“If I didn’t know any better, little girl,” he said, one brow raised and a smirk firmly entrenched on his lips, “I’d say you were trying to pick a fight. Now, why would you do that, I wonder?”
A sudden intake of breath made her breasts swell and press against his chest, and that defiance he’d seen in her eyes turned molten and desirous. Wicked.
“Certainly not for the make-up sex. That would be ridiculous.”
Rafe chuckled and he stroked his thumb over her plush bottom lip. Her lips parted, tempting him, inviting him to take the next step.
He pressed his body closer, felt her softness yield to his strength, but before he could even think of lowering his head and pressing his mouth to hers, her father appeared on the veranda and cleared his throat.
Jane stiffened and Rafe took a step back, but not too far. “Alec,” he said, sending a perfunctory nod in the older man’s direction.
“Rafael,” Alec said, his arms folded tightly across his chest and his perm-a-scowl set firmly in place.
Jane stood still and silent, refusing to make eye contact with either of them, so Rafe bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?”
Her nod was jerky. “Fine,” she said, then ran up the veranda steps and disappeared through the front door, followed closely by her father.
