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Jen waves goodbye as I unlock my truck and slide into the familiar driver’s seat. I love Jen, and appreciate that she is, in her own way, looking out for me. But my emotions were under control before she tried to convince me Chris was interested, and letting myself believe he might be resulted in disappointment. True, there had been a few instances where I thought Chris was flirting with me even before Jen got my hopes up, and after each of those, I was a little disappointed that I had misread things. It wasn't until Jen intervened that I went so far as to believe he wanted to kiss me. Hopefully she keeps her word and doesn't get involved, because if she’s not filling my head with hearts and flowers, I’ll get myself back under control and leave the drama to my characters.
But since the universe wants to mess with me, I pull into the office and spot Chris’s truck, sporting a new set of tires just like mine. My stomach gives a little flip, which is unfortunate since I just resolved to keep my head on straight when it comes to him.
I park in my typical spot, but instead of heading straight inside, I wander around the truck, impressed with its new profile, but curious as to why it has one.
“Do you like them?”
The sound of Chris’s voice makes me jump. I shoot him a wary look, but since he looks incredible in his jeans and pullover, I continue my lap around the truck to avoid looking at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says softly. “Do you like them?”
“Why?” I study him.
“Why what?”
“Why did you get new tires?”
“Shoes,” he corrects.
“Shoes?”
“That’s what you call them, right? Shoes?” He grins. I don’t return the smile. “You were right. A nice thick tread really does scream ‘truck.’”
“I was right?”
“Yeah. Tires really do change the whole look of the truck. You set me straight. So, do you like them?”
“It’s your truck.” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“That sounds like you don’t have an opinion, and I know that can’t be true.” His eyes glimmer.
“Are you making fun of me?” I accuse, searching his face for an explanation.
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Well, let’s see. You obviously weren’t interested in my opinion last week since it rendered you speechless, yet now you show up with new tires and want to know what I think about them. What sort of point are you trying to make, other than that you take some sort of sick pleasure in making me uncomfortable?”
Chris’s jaw drops open. Great, he's flabbergasted again. I start toward the office when he reaches for my arm and spins me around to face him.
“I am not making fun of you, and I don’t get some sort of sick pleasure in making you uncomfortable. Although truth be told, I kind of like the way you blush when you’re flustered.” He smiles sheepishly.
I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that. I glare at him and try to pull my arm from his grasp. He lets me go, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not making fun of you,” he repeats. “I was only speechless last week because I’ve never met a woman who had any kind of opinion about tires, let alone a strong one. You took me by surprise.”
I roll my eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I’m not finished. Remember you said you didn’t realize I was a sports-car guy?” I nod briefly before averting my gaze to the ground. “That was something you learned about me that you didn’t anticipate, right?” I nod again. “Well, I didn’t anticipate you having an interest in tires. I thought it was hilarious and creative that you call them shoes, and for the first time in my life, I could finally relate to the obsession women have with actual shoes. I didn’t speak because you gave me a whole new perspective to think about, and frankly I was fascinated and a little turned on watching you talk about cars and tires.”
Now it’s my turn to be dumbstruck. “Talking about tires turns you on?”
Chris laughs, shaking his head. “Talking about tires with a beautiful woman turns me on.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” I squint up at him.
“And sexy.” He looks at me. “Now, can I take you to brunch before the rest of the office gets here? I’d like to talk to you without an audience.”
“Um, sure?” I stammer, still unsure of what just happened. “I just have to get some papers. Charlie was supposed to leave them on my desk.”
Chris waves a stack of papers in the air. “You mean these?” I shoot him a questioning look. “I kept missing you here, so the plan was to drop them at your house. Follow me. There's a great diner about a mile away.”
