Page 28 of Home Team Advantage
He reached his hand out. “Give me your phone.”
With great reluctance, she pulled the device from her pocket. It was an older model, as basic and bare bones as they came. The kind of phone people used as burners.
Instead of giving it to him, however, she held on, thumbs poised. “Okay. Go ahead.”
He recited his digits while pulling out his own device. She tapped the screen accordingly, then began to put the phone away without saving him as a contact. He knew because he’d been watching her fingers.
She’d been humoring him. Probably to get away from him faster.
“Go ahead and call me. Just to make sure you got it right,” he said. “That way, I’ll have your number too.”
She looked directly into his eyes when she said very seriously, “I can’t imagine a situation where you’d need my help for anything.”
His mind flashed back to the day she’d brought those cookies over. He’d not only refused her offer to help, but also shut her down pretty thoroughly. No wonder she wasn’t buying his sudden let’s be friends campaign.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said, quieting his voice. “I shouldn’t have barked at you like I did.”
That gave her pause, and then she nodded. “It’s okay. I understand.”
He wondered if she did. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
More hesitation, but she eventually put her hand into his. It fit perfectly. What he wasn’t prepared for was the instant flow of heat, like warm honey through his veins, or the sense of peace, as if everything had been slightly off but was now perfectly aligned.
His eyes went to hers to see if she’d felt it, too, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was on her purse, where her other hand was digging for something.
She tugged to reclaim her hand. He gently tightened his grip in response. He wanted her to look at him.
When she did, those ebony eyes held none of the inner WTF he was experiencing.
He let go. Reluctantly.
It took him a moment to realize she’d extracted a twenty and dropped it on the table.
“Lunch is on me,” he said, shoving the twenty back at her.
She gave him a small smile. “Maybe next time.” Then, she grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the exit.
He watched her through the window, her stride purposeful, but not rushed. Stubborn, vexing female. But he was buoyed by the fact that she was open to a next time. Unless she’d only said what he wanted to hear so she could make her escape.
Goddammit.
Chapter Seventeen
ANNA
Anna left the diner as quickly as she could without actually running.
Matt Callaghan—O’Connell, whatever—was trouble. Too attractive, too charming. And too damn interested in the likes of her.
It certainly wasn’t because she was a stunner. In fact, she made a point of downplaying her appearance. Kept her hair in a practical ponytail. Wore unattractive glasses and didn’t bother with makeup. Chose comfortable clothes that did absolutely nothing for her figure and ugly but supportive footwear.
His interest raised red flags. Especially when there were plenty of women who looked as if they wouldn’t mind his attention. Three in that diner alone. He’d been so focused on her that he hadn’t even noticed.
She hated that her heart thumped quicker at the thought. Hated even more the full-body tingles that had sparked up the moment she put her hand in his. It was a purely physical response conjured up by her overactive imagination and the hormones she refused to acknowledge.
What was his deal anyway? She found it hard to believe he was seriously attracted to her. Maybe picking up women was so effortless for him that he liked a challenge. If that was the case, he would soon learn the difference between a challenge and an unachievable goal.
Though that might be like waving the proverbial red flag in front of a bull if that was his thing. Oh well. He’d get over it. She had no intention of playing his game.
