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“Did you get lost on your way out of here?”
I scream and accidentally bat my phone to the floor by my feet. Both hands wrap tight around the steering wheel as I turn a heated glare out my window.
“Was that necessary?”
Rhett rolls a toothpick around the corner of his lip. “Was about to ask you the same thing.” He appears to look at my phone’s new resting place, though the shades covering his eyes conceal his scrutiny.
“You scared me.”
“Clearly.”
I squint against the bright sun. “Can I help you with something?”
“Just wondering what you’re doing back here, Rosie.”
“It’s Evie.”
That damn lucky toothpick rolls to the other side of his mouth, but he remains quiet.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I fill the silence with another comment. Why I feel the need is beyond me. Maybe if I keep my mouth shut, he’d go on about his business.
He leans against my car, right next to my face. A hell of a lot of willpower is required not to turn and stare at his crotch placed conveniently at eye level.
“I’m not the one just passing through.” He throws a version of my words back at me.
“I guess we’re both planning to stay a while.”
Neat brows dip below the dark shades covering his eyes. “You’re planning to stay here?” He throws an arm out at the convenience store before us.
Flames lick my cheeks at the admission. I straighten my spine and jut my chin. “It’s temporary.”
“Fuck,” he mutters low, just audible above the scrape of his shoe against the gravel.
“I don’t need your judgment,” I snap.
Both hands rise in a placating gesture, and he dips his head near my window in pursuit of my face. “None from me, Rosie.”
“Why are you calling me that?” I ask with a hint of the embarrassment still smoldering.
He straightens and tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Because when I look at your hair, all I can picture is lying in a bed of roses.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Is that a euphemism?”
He pulls the toothpick from between his lips. “Do you want it to be?” His voice drops low.
A shiver chases away the remnants of mortification and replaces it with something tantalizing.
Rhett suddenly knocks on the roof of my car and drags me reluctantly from wayward thoughts. “I have somewhere to be, but I expect you to be here at six o’clock tonight.”
I flatten my mouth into a thin line. “I don’t take orders, buddy.”
“If you’re as adventurous as you seem, you’ll take this one.”
“And if I don’t?” I shout at his retreating back.
He halts completely, turning only his chin to his shoulder to glance back. “Then you’ll be missing a damn good meal, Rosie.”
5
