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Amanda gave him a side-eye. “I’ll have you know I’m a proper southern lady.”
“And a proper southern lady can’t enjoy a bit of petting?”
“Oh, I enjoyed it. I just never expected it from you, a proper southern gentleman.”
“Right. You expected… what did you say earlier? A vanilla?” Gene said.
She scanned the tempting man from his mysterious dark slate eyes to his kiss-plumped lips, his now wrinkled shirt, down to the still hard as rock rod inside his pants.
“No offense to vanilla, because I love it. But there’s nothing vanilla about you at all,” Amanda admitted. She pushed off the table and stepped close to him. “Can I repay the favor?”
She ran her hand over his bulge.
Gene swallowed a low moan. “Hold that offer until after we have a proper date. Tonight, I just needed a taste of you, but you deserve better.”
Amanda laughed. “I was just kidding about the whole proper southern lady thing. I’m no debutante.”
“You still deserve more than a tumble over the kitchen table, darling.” Gene brushed a thumb over her jaw.
“I think it was hot.” Amanda pressed her lips to the inside of his hand.
“No more tempting me with sweetness tonight,” Gene smiled. “Let’s get you home. You’re still recovering from an accident.”
“Are you staying tonight?” she asked.
Gene chuckled. “What did I just say?”
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Gene closed the passenger door to his car and walked around to the driver’s side. It took them mere minutes to put things away and clean up after themselves.
“Thank you for driving me home,” Amanda said when he started the car. “I’m getting a rental tomorrow, so I don’t have to bother anybody anymore.”
“I don’t mind it.” Gene was surprised that he truly meant it. “Do you need a ride to the rental place?”
She glanced at him with a grateful smile. “I might.”
Gene started the short drive to Amanda’s duplex.
“How did things go with your car insurance?”
Amanda’s nose scrunched in distaste. “Annoying. I spent all morning dealing with the car shop and the insurance company. Fortunately, the mechanic thinks they can replace the damaged front-end. None of the mechanical and electrical components suffered any damage. It’s mostly the grill, right headlight, bumper, and right fender. The insurance will cover the repair.”
“That’s good,” Gene said. “Sounds straightforward to me.”
“The insurance agent was drilling me about what happened. It’s in the police report, but I retold the whole thing again over the phone. They kept asking me if it wasn’t a deer I saw. I can tell the difference between a deer and a human girl,” Amanda said, irritation coloring her voice. “Why is it so hard to believe?”
Gene cringed inwardly. She wouldn’t like what he had to say.
“Well, people believe what is tangible, what’s right in front of them,” he started diplomatically. “Something they can touch or see. The problem is no one else can corroborate your version of events.”
She turned to face him. “My version of events?”
Gene felt her questioning glare burn into him as if it was a laser beam. He risked glancing at her before answering.
“You must realize running into a deer on that stretch of the road at dusk is more plausible.”
“Sure. But in my case, that’s not what happened,” she argued.
