Page 23 of Cocky Caveman

I hide a smirk behind my hand, but I am intrigued to know more about his musical talents, but my questions remain unasked.

“Fair is fair, your turn. How did you wind up in Temecula?”

How much do I want to reveal to a guy I won’t be seeing again? “I am trying something new. Temecula is now my home.”

“Because?”

“That story is not for a short road trip.”

Tucker gives me a side glance. “Okay. Anything you are willing to share about yourself?”

“You already know I was a bounty hunter, but recently, I did a short stint as a private investigator until I could work out what my future looked like—” a long, loud yawn escapes me. “—excuse me. Today has been one of my rare days off. I’ve been working physically hard these past six months. I blame relaxing in the passenger seat while I’m chauffeured around for convincing my body it wants to nap.” My excuse is valid. I have been working morning to night to get as much done as possible before Boxing Day, the twenty-sixth of December.

Tucker gives me a look of concern, his eyes seeking out the egg-shaped lump above my eye, forcing me to fight the urge to let my hair down to cover my forehead.

He collects himself and asks, “What does your future look like?”

I smother another yawn against the back of my hand.

“I’m about to open the doors to a unique type of Airbnb.” He knows I live in Temecula, so I shouldn’t have told him it is an Airbnb, but I can’t hide the pride in my voice. I am so proud of my hard work to make it a reality, but that is all I am willing to expose of myself.

Tucker waits for me to continue, but I don’t. “Come on. I need more than that to balance out the information I revealed to you. Fair is fair.”

“Goat yoga. Fun-sized accommodation. Pearl.” In a nutshell.

“Color me intrigued. Hamlet, you are getting more and more fascinating. You look like an action figure character, and you’ve got that whole Lara Croft post-Angelina Jolie going on, and you tell me you will be opening a unique Airbnb and mention goat yoga and fun-sized accommodation. Are you going to go into more detail or keep on being vague? What or who is Pearl?”

“Nah, I think I will keep on being vague for the meantime.”

I yawn again, this time louder and even longer, drowning out most of Tucker’s following words.

“… so, about that date, Hamlet.”

There will not be a date.

I move onto my side, curling up on the seat as best I can. “Eyes on the road,” I yawn.

“I would rather have them on you.”

I’m fighting to keep my eyes open, resting my chin in my hands.

“I’m sure tonight you will find a lucky girl or three who are itching to get in your pants and vice versa. Tucker groupies,” I murmur, smiling sleepily, fighting the pull of my eyelids to shut up shop.

“You wound me assuming I drop my drawers for anyone,” I hear him say from down a dark tunnel, “but I would consider dropping them for—”

“Ssh… tired…” I’m barely audible.

The last I hear from Tucker is a soft chuckle.

Six

RED FLAG AND NEW NICKNAME IS AFLOAT

Tucker

After she fellasleep, I managed to remove Hamlet’s sunglasses. Even with a bruised and swollen eye, she can’t hide her beauty.

I’ve had roughly forty minutes in silence to think about the next step to take to get her to go out on a date with me. I haven’t felt this deep stirring interest in a female in a long time, and I can’t ignore it and just walk away.

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