Page 75 of Story of My Life
I poked him in the chest. “You’re not even breathing, are you?”
He sucked in a breath. “You want us…to date,” he repeated.
I leaned away and held up my hands. “Absolutely not.”
“I’m…confused.”
“It’s research. Geez. Do you actually think I’m desperate enough to blackmail you for a date? Don’t answer that!”
He smirked.
“I’m writing a grumpy alpha contractor hero, and I haven’t been on a date in…a very long time. I need to make this guy and my quirky, adorable, hot mess heroine believable. So far you’ve been kind of inspiring.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he hit the brakes a little too hard at the stop sign. “Excuse me?”
My head thumped against the headrest. “I knew I should have gone to Gage,” I complained. “Just forget I said anything. And maybe don’t look me in the eye for the rest of my life.” I reached for the door handle, fully intending to take my embarrassment for a walk. But Cam leaned across me and held the door shut.
“Explain,” he growled.
“See? This exactly,” I said triumphantly. “You frown a lot and yell at me. My hero frowns a lot and yells at the heroine. I just want to see you in action and use whatever works in the book.”
“You want me to be your hero,” he said.
“No! Well, not exactly. I want you to be you, but instead of acting like you openly hate me, I need you to act like you’re secretly attracted to me.”
He looked baffled and horrified and maybe even a little bit scared. “Why?” he croaked.
“Because I did something for you and now I want something in return. That’s how this whole favor system works.”
“Jesus, Trouble. I get what a favor is. What I don’t get is why are you using me as inspiration? I’m not hero material.”
“Well, parts of you are.” I did my best not to let my gaze slide down to his crotchal region. “All Idoknow is I saw your picture and I had to come here.”
“My picture,” he repeated, looking like I’d just proposed marriage.
“Relax, weirdo. It wasn’t personal. It was professional.”
“I already regret asking, but what the hell are you talking about?”
“Inspiration. I saw the article about you and your brothers helping Dorothea Wilkes. You were so grumpy in the interview and then there was the picture with you scowling like you had better things to do than smile and pose for a photo. I felt like there were puzzle pieces of a story forming in my head.”
A horn honked behind us, and Cam hit the gas, throwing me back in my seat.
“You think I’m inspiring?” he asked.
“For the love of God. This is coming out all wrong. I used to get inspired all over the damn place. I could overhear something salacious at my favorite bagel place and then build an entire book around it. But it’s been ages since that happened. I’ve been…struggling. Until you and this place.”
“Professionally?” he repeated.
“Yes, professionally. I have no intention of conning you into a date just so I can rip your pants off. I just want to keep being inspired. I’ve written more words here than I have in the last two years. And I’m desperate enough to do whatever it takes to keep the words coming.”
He pulled up in front of Heart House and put the truck in park. “What kind of date?”
“How should I know? Whatever kind of date you’d take a woman on.”
Cam blew out a breath and then got out of the vehicle. I climbed out of the passenger side. He rummaged around in the back seat and then joined me on the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to walk me to the door. We’re not actually dating,” I reminded him. I definitely should have asked Gage. He was so much more easygoing.
