Chapter 8
“Turn around.” Mullens leaned across the console between himself and Athena, who was pressing down hard on the gas pedal of his zippy little sports car as they hit the outer limits of Sweetheart Creek, the expanse of highway opening up in front of them.
“No way. You said I could drive.”
“It doesn’t make sense for you to chauffeur me all the way home.”
Athena gave a playful pout. “You just don’t want me driving your beautiful baby.” She dropped her chin and batted her eyelashes in a flirtatious way that had his heart gasping in shock. “I thought you were supposed to be fun.”
Hello, sweetheart.
No, he reminded himself. This was Athena.
She might be flirting, but she’d turn as quickly as a spooked mare if he wasn’t careful. He needed to be nothing like that dunce who’d almost barfed, trying to get her attention back there.
Then again, she was driving him home, which meant being stupid might finally give him a chance.
Although he was currently trying to convince her not to take care of him tonight. That, too, was stupid.
This woman got him so twisted up he couldn’t even think straight. Her driving his Corvette was brilliant, and gave them time together. And tomorrow she’d need to return the car, and see him again. It was perfect, really.
“How are you going to get home if you drive me all the way back to San Antonio?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“You have three cars, don’t you?” She looked gorgeous wearing that wide smile.
Yeah, there was no way he was going to do anything to pull that grin off her face.
“If you stay the night, I can drive you home in the morning.”
She laughed. She might be relaxing around him, showing her playful side, but he knew she would never step across that self-imposed line and do something that crazy. At least not with him.
“So, besides letting you drive my car,” he asked, “how else can I help you have more fun?”
“Actually—” she cut a quick glance in his direction “—watching you destroy yourself kind of made my day.”
Mullens ran the heels of his hands down his quads and arched his back. The antacids and time were helping to settle his stomach, but he didn’t exactly need reminders. Especially since his pride was in the process of catching up with him and his stupidity.
“It shouldn’t matter to me whether or not you follow my dietary advice,” she said, her tone perfectly level, “but it means a lot that you do.”
She cut him another glance, this one assessing. Approving, even?
“Yeah, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”
She snorted. “Understatement.”
He could tell that his behavior confused her, and that she didn’t quite trust him. He needed to show he was trustworthy, even if not entirely worthy of her forgiveness.
“Hey, why don’t we go out on a date?” he asked, shifting in the passenger seat before she could ask him why he’d been such a jerk the day they’d met.
She kept her focus steady on the spool of straight highway unwinding in front of them.
“Tina?”
Her head began shaking back and forth.
“What? It would be fun.” He dropped his voice. “And I bring delightful gifts.”
He studied her earlobes. She was back to wearing the tiny emeralds he assumed were her birthstone.