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She shook her head and looked out the windshield. The streetlights seemed to be going by way too fast. The man was definitely in a hurry. “I won’t deny that I want you,” she softly replied. “But to go home with you when I don’t even really know you. I feel like I’m easy or something. Even though I’m not,” she rushed to reassure. “I mean, I never go home with a man on the first date. Not to imply that what we had tonight was a date exactly, it’s just that—”
“Catherine,” Dean said, stopping the speeding race car of her mouth. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re easy. In fact, it’s not exactly my MO to take a woman home so fast either.” He spared her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read in the darkness. “How about we just agree to share a nightcap and see what happens from there. Okay?”
She cocked her head, wishing she could see him clearer. “Why are you so sweet one minute and the next you’re looking at me as if I’m the bogeyman? Or in my case, the bogey-woman.” She clutched her purse tighter. “I just can’t figure you out.”
He chuckled. “First, there’s no such thing as the bogey-woman. Even if there were, I don’t think you’d resemble her in any way. You’re way too pretty to be something so nasty. Second, I can’t help the way I feel. I’m into you, sweetheart. My head is telling me it’s a bad idea, that I shouldn’t trust you. Thing is, my head isn’t running the show right now.”
Catherine both hated and loved Dean’s brutal honesty. One thing for sure, she’d never have to wonder if he truly meant what he said. “And my head is telling me I should go back to my hotel room,” she blurted out, giving him her own dose of candor. “To go to sleep like the good girl I was raised to be.”
Dean chuckled. “How about we let the bad girl in you decide how the evening should end?”
Considering she wasn’t even sure she had a bad girl side, Catherine had to give that some thought. Or tried to. With Dean stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, Catherine kept getting sidetracked with ideas of how good that thumb would feel on other parts of her body. In the end, Catherine decided it was high time her nearly nonexistent inner bad girl got to come out and play. “Your house,” she finally said, throwing caution to the wind for the first time in her life.
She heard Dean curse before squeezing her hand gently. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”
Catherine hoped that was true, but she had a terrible feeling that nothing would be the same once the night was through.
10
Dean shut the front door behind her, and the sound echoed in the dark room. Every nerve in her body started a riot. She nearly leaped out of her skin when he flipped a switch next to the door and light flooded the room.
“Don’t be so skittish,” he murmured as he helped her off with her coat. “I’m not the big bad wolf.” After he placed her coat on a chair by the door, he held out his hands. “See? No claws.”
She smiled as his teasing managed to relax her a fraction. “Sorry, but the nervousness seems to be here to stay.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then how about something to relax you? I make a mean hot chocolate.”
She tossed her purse on top of her coat. “I don’t know a single woman on the planet who would pass that up.”
“Hmm, chocolate cake earlier and now hot chocolate.” He winked. “I’m beginning to see how to get around your defenses, Miss Michaels.”
His use of the word Miss sent a shiver down her spine. “Ew, don’t say Miss. Makes me think of that guy at the club tonight.”
He turned toward the kitchen. “Yeah, he was a real pain in the ass.”
Catherine pulled out a chair at the table and sat. “Actually, I had noticed him earlier. He’d been watching me. It felt weird.”
Dean took down two mugs and placed them on the counter. Catherine became pleasantly distracted by the way his trousers molded to his buttocks and thighs, but the look he shot her over his shoulder sent her dirty mind into hiding. She frowned. “What?”
“Why didn’t you say anything about that before?”
“Uh, first off, it’s not a crime to look at a woman, Dean. Second, you don’t need to fight off unwanted suitors for me.”
Dean shook his head as he went to another cupboard and grabbed a can of hot chocolate mix. “I should’ve kicked his ass anyway. As it was, I wanted to kick his ass. I was just trying not to make a scene your first night out.”
She laughed. “I appreciate your restraint, truly.”
As he went about making their drinks, Catherine went back to watchi
ng him move around the kitchen. Damn, the man was built. Every hard inch of him made her mouth water. As gorgeous as he was, Catherine couldn’t forget the fact that he didn’t trust her. Of course, now that they’d spent some time together, maybe he’d changed his mind. There was one surefire way to find out. Ask him. The coward in her couldn’t bring herself to form the question. She didn’t want to ruin the moment by bringing tedious things like reality into it.
As he placed a steaming cup in front of her, Catherine hummed her approval. “This looks yummy.”
Dean handed her a spoon. “Do you want marshmallows?”
Catherine quirked a brow. “Do you have the mini ones?”
He wagged his eyebrows, and Catherine nearly melted on the spot. “Yep,” he replied. “Whenever Deanna comes over she insists on them.”
