Page 26 of Objection to Love

She stuck her tongue out at him, then quickly covered her mouth in shock. Where had that come from?

“Okay, back to the deal. I’ll drive you to work every day for a month if you win.”

“No, no, that’s no good. I still plan on going in to work early, even if I agree to this deal. And I refuse to be late. You’ll make me late.” She stuck her finger accusingly at him.

He laughed. “Alright, I’ll make you dinner for a week.”

“Are you a good cook?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’ll pass on that one.”

“Wait. Why do I have to offer some sort of reward for this? Shouldn’t your own self-satisfaction be enough?” Garrett raised an eyebrow at her.

“Uh-uh. But if you want to drop the deal, it’s more than alright with me.”

“Okay, fine. I can build you something?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. Within reason.” He quickly added that last part with a raise of his palm.

Em walked to a barstool one down from his and sat. “I thought you were in construction management. Not construction, construction.”

Garrett shrugged one shoulder. “My dad liked to work with his hands a lot, so I picked up a few things.”

Em glanced down at his hands. They did seem capable and strong.

“I made my mom a rocking chair last year. I could make you some shelves. Or picture frames. Or a house for your cat.” He pointed at Mr. Winkles as she slinked around a corner.

“Mr. Winkles has a whole bedroom to herself; he doesn’t need a house. But I’ll take you up on the offer. With a few exceptions.”

“Mr. Winkles?”

“Don’t ask. Now, my exceptions. I have to be home byseven, not six. And I have to be able to veto any of your ideas of fun.”

“I will agree to the seven o’clock stipulation, but if you were allowed to veto my fun ideas, we would end up not doing anything. Or worse, we’d only do your hobbies: napping and bathing. Which, come to think of it, probably wouldn’t actually be terrible, but I still doubt you want to do them with me.”

Em glared at him, hoping the look would cover her flaming cheeks. “Fine. No vetoing. That brings me to the last stipulation. These arenotdates. We are not dating. I don’t have time for that.”

Garrett chuckled, and Em crossed her arms, fending off a flash of offense.

He turned in his barstool, leaning an elbow onto the counter and leaning forward an inch or two. The distance between them filled with anticipation. His voice was pitched lower as he pierced her with a look that was half amusement, half challenge. “Don’t worry, September Miller, I have no intention of dating you.”

He pushed back from the counter and checked his watch. “Hey, I gotta run, but I’ll see you on Saturday. Get ready for some fuuuun. Oh, and you’d better be home by seven tomorrow.”

He smiled as he stood up, rinsed his cup and plate in the sink, and showed himself out the door.

Which left Em staring at the spot he’d just vacated and wondering why he didn’t want to date her.

Chapter 10

Garrett

Thesearenotdates.

Garrett scoffed as Em’s words rang through his head while he texted one of the crew members with a few last instructions. Thank heavens that woman was too vain for her own good, otherwise Garrett would be in real trouble. But he hardly needed to do anything besides poke her a bit, and up in arms she went, ready to defend herself, her job, and probably her strangely named cat, too.

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