Page 26 of Safe With Me
Despite having to sit on my shaking hands, I smiled. “That’ll make family holidays great.”
Scott’s rare grin curved his mouth. “Come on. I’ll take you to lunch with me.”
“You don’t have to.”
Ignoring me, he opened Andrea’s door and poked his head inside. “”Hey, Andrea, I’m taking Hannah to lunch.”
“Remember we have an exclusivity agreement.”
Shaking his head, he shut the door and waved me toward the exit. “She’s as bad as Daddy.”
Tucking my phone in my back pocket, I stepped by him onto the front porch of the old-house-turned-office. “What? How?”
“He reads romance novels, right?” He tucked his hands in his pockets and bounded down the steps. At the sidewalk, he turned us west toward the bank and the courthouse square. Over at the autobody shop, a drill whined and metal clanked. “Because Mama loved them. It was a way to stay connected to her after she died, and he got addicted. So he’s read a slew of them lately about billionaires who get hot and heavy with their PAs. He had a field day when I told him I hired you.”
“Oh.” The aromas wafting from the food truck parked under the spreading oak trees tickled my nose. Cruz’s. Excellent. “Well, you’re not a billionaire, so I guess we’re safe.”
He paused at the corner and waited for the light to change. “We’re safe because you were dumb enough to go out with Tick more than once.”
I smiled, not looking at him. “I had to see if the bad first date was a fluke.”
“That doesn’t explain the third one.”
“My daddy doesn’t raise quitters.”
His low chuckle bordered on a real laugh. The walk light flared, and we started across. I ignored how if I went another block and turned left, I could walk a couple more blocks and be back home at the store.
We waited in line and after a few minutes took our lunch specials to one of the picnic tables scattered about the small shaded park. I dipped a chip in my guacamole. “Can I decorate the office for the holidays?”
He shrugged on a bite of taco. “Might be a tree in the storage office.”
“No.” I dipped up another mouthful of the best chunky guac in south Georgia. “Can I create some decor?”
“Sure, but I’m not paying you extra.”
Sticking my tongue out at my boss would be a bad idea, so instead, I dove into my enchilada. My brain was off, already thinking about what would look good over the door, over the mirror on the wall. Cedar and magnolia leaves, maybe some dried mums or orange slices. My fingers itched to sketch. I could start that when we got back to the office.
“He has it for you bad.”
“What?” Pulled out of my pleasant musings, I blinked, then glanced around. My gaze landed on Jase and Tate a few tables away. Tate stared at me, features twisted by mournful agony.
I dropped my fork, appetite decimated.
“He’s the asshole you cut off, isn’t he?”
“He is.”
“That–” He waved his taco blatantly in Tate’s direction. “--is why I don’t do emotional attachment.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You’reengaged.”
He shrugged. “It’s an arrangement.”
“That’s kind of cold.” I refused to look at Tate again, but I could feel him gazing at me.
“Yep, and I want it that way. My mama dying destroyed my daddy. He was never the same. And the way Edwards is looking at you, like he’s bleeding out? Don’t want that vulnerability in my life, ever.”
I would not think about how Tate Edwards might look at me. He didn’t exist any longer. “So I really don’t have to worry you’ll fall madly in love with me.”
