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She wanted to be a good girl for him. So desperately.
“That’s it. Well done. I want you to keep your gaze on me, all right? Do not move it.”
“What happens if I do?” The words weren’t a challenge. She just wanted to know.
“Then you’re going to be in trouble.”
She didn’t like that. She was a good girl. Well . . . that wasn’t always true. Growing up, she’d been hell on wheels.
And look where that had gotten her.
Nope. Good girl. She was a good girl.
“Hey. Don’t look so worried,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m not scared. Not of you, anyway.”
“You’re scared of the storm.”
“Something . . . something bad happened to me in a snowstorm.”
“Well, nothing bad is going to happen to you now. Understand me? I will keep you safe.”
“Can I keep you with me all the time?” she asked.
“Like a bodyguard?” He grinned as he shifted gears. Fuck, that was sexy. She didn’t know why. But watching those hands move the gear stick around.
Yep. Sexy.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Something like that.”
“While I’m sure that would be fun, I don’t think I’d make a very good bodyguard.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too bossy.”
“And fussy,” she said as he tucked the jacket back under her leg when it had slipped. “You’re bossy and fussy.”
Was he a Daddy? She kind of got that feeling from him. But what did she know?
“You make driving a stick shift look so easy,” she said.
“You can’t drive a manual?” he asked.
“I sort of can. Aidan tried to teach me with this old clunker of a car he owned. It was his pride and joy, and every time I rode the clutch, he practically had a heart attack. That car was held together by duct tape and a prayer, but I couldn’t torture him like that. Well, unless he was being a dick. Then, I’d ask him to take me for driving lessons, and he’d go all pale . . . that was fun.”
“That was very naughty.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Was he going to scold her?
“But also, devious. I admire that.” He winked at her. “Want me to teach you to drive a stick shift?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be any good at it, you know? You’re used to it.”
“Holding onto a stick? I’ve had some practice.”
Was he talking about . . . she gaped up at him.
