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My cheeks immediately flush red at the way his hazel eyes fixate on me and he couldn’t be serious. I know what I was wearing was a little skimpy, but…it’s Reid. The dude that doesn’t want to be bothered with kids and wants to go back to playing hockey. The one who's trying to get me a date with Weston.
I know I’m gaping at him with shock, but I can’t be anything but. He shocks the crap out of me with his teasing sometimes, and I don’t know how to manage it. I’d rather him stay his broody self because it’s easier to read and predict.
“Did you want a receipt?”
“Yeah,” Reid replies, flicking his gaze over my head to Kevin. “Need to make sure you don’t tack on any extra charges about where you parked her car or if you used her blinker to get it out of the parking lot.”
Reid reaches for his card, puts it away, and I stand there like a fish out of water. Unable to move because his words still sit in my head, and they won’t leave.
It was worth it, especially with what you were wearing.
Was that a compliment? Did he mean that it would be worth it to Weston because I’m worth it?
He can’t mean himself. Reid isn’t going to date me—of all people—and he certainly isn’t going to come back to Boston to see how the kids are doing.
That should be a red flag right there.
I want kids.
Reid acts as though it’s the worst thing since they started selling unfrosted Pop-Tarts at the stores.
With the assistance of Reid’s hand, he guides me out of the mechanic shop and to the parking lot so we can leave.
I owe him eight hundred sixty dollars and three cents.
Halting in my spot causes Reid to do the same, and he turns to look down at me.
And before I can even get a word out, he announces, “Shut up, Shorty, and let it be.”
“No,” I counter through knitted brows. “You paid that moron too much money over something that didn’t need fixing in the first place.”
“You weren’t going to win that battle.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman?”
“No, because they already did the work.”
“I’m calling crime stoppers,” I decide. “The news outlets need to know and warn everyone about this place.”
Reid nods. “Sounds good.”
“It’s not good enough. I owe you eight hundred and—”
“I told you not to worry about it,” he insists again. “Let’s just get your car and—”
“I am worried about it.” I begin patting my jeans. “Where are my keys—” Reid dangles them in the air, and I practically rip his finger off when I grab them. “Thank you. But I am going to pay you back.”
“Hollyn—”
“Don’t Hollyn me, Reid. I don’t need you to pay for my car repairs for a vehicle that’s not your problem.”
“I never said you needed it. But it had to be done.”
“No,” I continue to debate. “I can’t believe you gave him your credit card. What kind of dealings do you do with your own stuff?”
“Dealings?” His face lifts, obviously not catching on to my drift.
“Do you just throw your fancy credit card around and say screw it? That’s not how normal people operate. We all don’t have multi-million dollar contracts for hockey.”
