Page 15 of Welcome Home, Cowboy
She looked up. That was her first mistake. Those eyes of his were liquid aphrodisiacs. “Thanks.” She dialed the number she knew by heart: 455-RIDE. Back in the day she’d called a cab from this very bar more times than she cared to admit. “Hi. I’d like a cab,” she said when the receptionist picked up.
Lawson pulled the phone from her hand and clicked theCALL ENDbutton.
“What—?” Her mouth fell open as she looked at him. “But you said I could use your phone.”
“And you can.” He shoved it back in his pocket. “If you need to. But you don’t need to. I’ll drive you home.”
Julie shook her head, unsure whether to be mad or amused. “You are determined to give me a ride this week, aren’t you?”
Lawson grinned.
“What?” she asked, grinning back.
“Nothing. It’s just, the old Lawson would have a response for that.”
“The old Lawson?” She crossed her arms under her chest, meeting his gaze.
“The less mature version of myself,” he supplied.
Julie’s mouth kicked up in one corner. She didn’t want to enjoy the exchange she was having with Lawson Phillips right now, but she was. “Let’s hear it.”
“Save a horse,” Lawson said. His brows lifted, letting her put the rest together.
Julie’s mouth dropped again. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t finish it.” Lawson jingled his keys. “Ride a cowboy.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. What I meant to say was ridewitha cowboy.”
Julie laughed. It felt good to laugh. “Fine. Thank you.”
He led her to his truck and opened the passenger-side door for her. “You’re welcome.”
She stepped inside and he shut the door after her. She waited for him to get behind the wheel. “Are you able to drive? I mean, have you had too much to drink?”
Lawson glanced over. “I don’t get drunk anymore. That was the old Lawson, too.” He cranked the engine and reversed his truck.
Julie folded her hands in her lap. “Why not?” she asked, already guessing. People didn’t just stop drinking unless there was a problem. She tallied that on the list of reasons not to be attracted to Lawson. She’d already dated one man with a substance abuse problem. She didn’t intend to date another.
“I like being in control of what I say and do. I got tired of making a fool of myself. I drink one or two every now and then, but that’s it.”
Julie nodded. People with true problems couldn’t stop at one or two. It was all or nothing. The tally mark moved to the reasons why Lawson wasn’t such a bad guy after all. “I see. So, how’s work?” she asked, looking for a neutral topic.
Lawson glanced over. From the look on his face, he didn’t like her conversation starter. “Could be better,” he said.
She could relate to that. “The Chow Bucket needs a person to dress up as a chicken if you need a job.”
He glanced over again, this time amusement playing in his blue eyes.
“But you’re a Marine, so that’s irrelevant.” She rubbed her sweaty palms on her thigh.
His gaze flicked down before returning to the road. “Do I make you nervous, Julie?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“I think you might be telling a little fib.” He smiled and the air between them charged even more.
Thank God they were only five minutes from her house. She could handle five minutes. She hoped. “Crowded bars make me nervous,” she explained. “It seemed like everyone in Seaside was at Heroes tonight. And it’s not even a weekend.”
“They all must be having the same kind of week.”
