Test Drive by Marie Harte

them to share. His dinner cost more, so she felt better about things.
    “You don’t want a drink?” he asked after ordering a beer.
    “Water is fine for me.” At his look, she said, “I’m a social drinker. But I like water with meals.”
    “So what? I’m not social enough for you?”
    “I’m trying to keep my wits, Mr. Charm. Besides, water is free. You can thank me later when you’re buying me a tub of popcorn at the movies.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Yeah. I’ll buy our tickets, but you’re in charge of food.” She gave him a big smile. “And I eat a lot.”
    He gave her an assessing once-over. “It’s going to all the right places.” He rubbed his heart. “Oh boy, is it.”
    “Stop. I’m wearing a sweater, for God’s sake.”
    “Yeah, but ever since I found out you’re going to be a nurse, I keep envisioning you in those naughty nurse outfits. How about it? Make my year and wear one in a few weeks for Halloween.”
    “Because a tiny white skirt, garters, and cleavage screams professional.” She snorted. “Tell you what. I’ll be a naughty nurse if you’ll be a hunky mechanic. No shirt, just jeans and some manly sweat. Maybe even a dab of grease on your face to look authentic. Yeah, man-candy all the way.”
    “Done.” He held out a hand across the table.
    She stared at it. “What’s this?”
    “A deal. Shake on it.”
    She took his hand, her entire body flaming at his touch. He gripped her and pumped once, then let her go. Boy was she needing to get laid if a simple handshake turned her on.
    He smiled at her. “I can’t wait.”
    “I was joking.”
    “I wasn’t.”
    The waiter returned with an appetizer of calamari, and they both ate while they asked each other questions. To her surprise, she and Johnny had quite a bit in common. They both lived alone, worked long hours, and enjoyed hanging with friends.
    “Favorite color?” she asked.
    “Black. You?”
    “Red.”
    He nodded. “Figured.”
    “How’s that?”
    “I can just tell.”
    “Sure you can.” She ate another bite of delicately battered squid. “Do you like all kinds of music or just classic rock?”
    “Actually, I’m a fan of electronic dance music. Classic rock is manly. Trance and techno more fun.”
    “Hmm.”
    “What?”
    She studied him, looking for signs of subterfuge. He kept liking the same things she did. “I like EDM too.”
    “Shows you have good taste in music.” He pushed the last two pieces of their appetizer toward her. “Eat up. You need to save your energy for later.”
    She’d wondered if he’d try something at some point. Though disappointed, part of her felt relieved he was acting true to type. “Is that right?”
    He managed to look wounded, his deep green eyes practically mournful, despite the glow of revelry in them. “Now, Lara, I have a feeling you’re misreading me.”
    “Oh?”
    “I just meant that after the movie you’re going to be all pumped up. So when we hit that all-night batting cage, you’ll need your strength.”
    “Yech. Baseball? I hate baseball.”
    “I knew you weren’t perfect, but finding out like this, so early on our date, it’s tough.” He sighed.
    She tried not to laugh but had to. “You’re such a goof.”
    “A hot goof.”
    “Yeah. One who visits a lot of strip clubs, so I hear.”
    He flushed. “My dad’s place. I help out a lot.”
    “I bet you do.”
    The waiter brought their dinners and cleared off their empty plates.
    “We’ll get back to that comment later,” he warned. “We have more important things to talk about.”
    “Like?”
    “The rules. When you’re out with me, you have to share.” He glanced at her plate.
    “What?” She tugged her amazing-looking crab cakes toward her. “No way. This dinner is mine.”
    “Sweetheart, you—”
    “‘Sweetheart’? What, this early in the date you’re already forgetting my name?”
    He glared at her. “You know, for a pretty woman everyone thinks is just a sweetheart ,