that
you’re sarcastic to me?”
His eyes twinkled. “A guy has to protect
himself, doesn’t he? Especially with women like you.”
She had no idea what he meant by that. Women
like her? Also known as lawyers? Or was he referring to the fact
she had been a little too chummy during the kiss?
Guilty as charged, she decided in
frustration. She was so hot for this guy, even the Bourne toddler
must have noticed it.
So why deny it?
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” she
asked playfully.
“Hardly.” His tone softened. “You’ll make a
good agent someday.”
“I’m a good agent already.”
He laughed, then returned his attention to
the road.
She wanted to keep up the banter—or at least
pin down the details about the football lessons—but she reminded
herself the party had been stressful for him and he too needed to
process it. If only he would let her help. The first advice she
would give him? Putting up barriers the way he did created a
self-fulfilling prophecy.
Why didn’t he get that?
Because there were all those years when he
lived far away. His dad was in the service. His mom wasn’t a Bourne
fan. Then his dad died and the link was a source of pain. Maybe he
never got past it.
It made a certain amount of sense. From the
outside looking in, Darcie could wallow in the beauty of Bea’s
adoration of Matthew Bourne. Even Tony, with his fading memory, was
a testament to the nephew who had become a son to him. So was Aunt
Jenny, remembering her impish little brother.
What could be better?
But for Wyatt, it must be so different. He
had missed the actual bonding, but wasn’t an outsider either. So he
did his best to participate while also keeping his distance,
geographically and emotionally.
They still had a long drive ahead of them,
and she knew she should try to sleep. But there was always the
chance he’d say something, and she had an odd craving to continue
the dialogue, whether teasing, sarcastic, or just football. If she
hoped to get to know him better, they had to talk.
And kiss. A lot.
Or maybe he was the type who wanted to go
straight to bed. She usually frowned on that, but for him she might
make an exception because his strong jaw and silent treatment were
driving her crazy. She even tortured herself by combing back
through their interactions on the plane, looking for signs he felt
the same way.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t given her an actual
compliment in all that ridicule.
Find another career? Did you get the job
because you’re Patrick Murphy’s girlfriend?
And the ever-popular earbud routine.
Bottom line? He had ignored her, made fun of
her, and then ditched her at the first opportunity. She even
suspected he had known she’d be at the concussion awareness gala,
and had intentionally avoided the need to touch base with her
there.
Hopefully, things had changed. She had been
an asset at the party except for a few miscues. And she hadn’t been
the only person involved in that kiss. He could have phoned it
in—like the football lessons—but instead, he had kissed the hell
out of her.
And then walked away like nothing
happened . Doesn’t that tell you something?
He was a confusing guy, no doubt about it.
But there was something between them. Not romance, or at least not
exactly. And definitely not business. It didn’t fall into a neat
category. Mysterious? Edgy? Obnoxiously hot?
Or just a figment of her imagination? That
would be embarrassing. Not that it mattered. Because she had to
find out, hopefully when she invited him in for coffee.
Chapter Four
By the time he pulled up in front of her
house, she felt discouraged, mostly because he had barely spoken
another word to her, the exception being when he switched the radio
on, chose a sports interview show, then told her, “This guy’s
usually decent. Maybe you’ll pick up some pointers.”
“That’s how I got my law degree,” she had
quipped, and he had chuckled, then ignored her again. Making
matters worse,
you’re sarcastic to me?”
His eyes twinkled. “A guy has to protect
himself, doesn’t he? Especially with women like you.”
She had no idea what he meant by that. Women
like her? Also known as lawyers? Or was he referring to the fact
she had been a little too chummy during the kiss?
Guilty as charged, she decided in
frustration. She was so hot for this guy, even the Bourne toddler
must have noticed it.
So why deny it?
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” she
asked playfully.
“Hardly.” His tone softened. “You’ll make a
good agent someday.”
“I’m a good agent already.”
He laughed, then returned his attention to
the road.
She wanted to keep up the banter—or at least
pin down the details about the football lessons—but she reminded
herself the party had been stressful for him and he too needed to
process it. If only he would let her help. The first advice she
would give him? Putting up barriers the way he did created a
self-fulfilling prophecy.
Why didn’t he get that?
Because there were all those years when he
lived far away. His dad was in the service. His mom wasn’t a Bourne
fan. Then his dad died and the link was a source of pain. Maybe he
never got past it.
It made a certain amount of sense. From the
outside looking in, Darcie could wallow in the beauty of Bea’s
adoration of Matthew Bourne. Even Tony, with his fading memory, was
a testament to the nephew who had become a son to him. So was Aunt
Jenny, remembering her impish little brother.
What could be better?
But for Wyatt, it must be so different. He
had missed the actual bonding, but wasn’t an outsider either. So he
did his best to participate while also keeping his distance,
geographically and emotionally.
They still had a long drive ahead of them,
and she knew she should try to sleep. But there was always the
chance he’d say something, and she had an odd craving to continue
the dialogue, whether teasing, sarcastic, or just football. If she
hoped to get to know him better, they had to talk.
And kiss. A lot.
Or maybe he was the type who wanted to go
straight to bed. She usually frowned on that, but for him she might
make an exception because his strong jaw and silent treatment were
driving her crazy. She even tortured herself by combing back
through their interactions on the plane, looking for signs he felt
the same way.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t given her an actual
compliment in all that ridicule.
Find another career? Did you get the job
because you’re Patrick Murphy’s girlfriend?
And the ever-popular earbud routine.
Bottom line? He had ignored her, made fun of
her, and then ditched her at the first opportunity. She even
suspected he had known she’d be at the concussion awareness gala,
and had intentionally avoided the need to touch base with her
there.
Hopefully, things had changed. She had been
an asset at the party except for a few miscues. And she hadn’t been
the only person involved in that kiss. He could have phoned it
in—like the football lessons—but instead, he had kissed the hell
out of her.
And then walked away like nothing
happened . Doesn’t that tell you something?
He was a confusing guy, no doubt about it.
But there was something between them. Not romance, or at least not
exactly. And definitely not business. It didn’t fall into a neat
category. Mysterious? Edgy? Obnoxiously hot?
Or just a figment of her imagination? That
would be embarrassing. Not that it mattered. Because she had to
find out, hopefully when she invited him in for coffee.
Chapter Four
By the time he pulled up in front of her
house, she felt discouraged, mostly because he had barely spoken
another word to her, the exception being when he switched the radio
on, chose a sports interview show, then told her, “This guy’s
usually decent. Maybe you’ll pick up some pointers.”
“That’s how I got my law degree,” she had
quipped, and he had chuckled, then ignored her again. Making
matters worse,
Similar Books
