Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,4
open. “Excuse me! You’re the one who stalked me then broke into my car! That’s what serial killers do. Not Southern gentlemen,” I say, tossing the term back in his face, because from where I’m sitting, he’s anything but.
“Didn’t stalk—more like escorted home.”
“Can it be an escort if you’re behind me and I don’t even know about it?”
He waves me off. “And I didn’t break into your car. You left it unlocked. You know, if you’re well versed in horror movies, you should know it’s always the pretty ones who die first.”
“The pretty, dumb ones,” I counter.
“Touché. Dumb like leaving the passenger’s-side door unlocked in a terrible storm out by a lake in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?”
“I suppose it’s my turn to say touché. Now, weren’t you saying something about leaving just a moment ago?” I’m too tired yet too wound up to continue this conversation. All I want right now is a hot bath—which, I guess in this stormy weather, is out of the question. Starting my vacation with getting electrocuted is not on my list of to-do things. So I’ll settle for a warm mug of coffee, dry clothes, and feet on solid ground. And perhaps a nap with my head buried under a pillow to sleep the storm out.
“Ah, yeah.”
A car horn honks. The man rolls the window down just a tad and holds his middle finger up to someone. Ah, the universal symbol for ‘screw off’. I should’ve given it to him myself. I glare once again when he shakes out his wet hand in my car.
“Do you mind? This is pristine leather.” I sound like a snob, I know, and I don’t care. My dad kept this car in mint condition and I’ll be damned if I let some rude, obnoxious stranger spoil even an inch of it.
He grimaces, his expression remorseful. “My bad.” He glances at his wet T-shirt. “I’d offer to take off my shirt and wipe it up, but… I’m just as wet. By the way, that was my geek brother. He told me not to follow you. Which kinda meant I had to, so let’s blame this all on him, shall we?”
“I guess we know who got the brains in your family.”
“Cute,” he mutters, not in the least put off by my insult.
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Exactly,” he says, like that one word should make all the sense in the world.
Newsflash for him: It doesn’t. So I just glare.
“Okay, I can see this is going nowhere. So, yeah, I’ll get outta your hair. But before I go…” He pauses, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. “Can I get your name?”
I open my mouth to answer, but then I change my mind and snap it shut. The way his lips curl into a cocky smile tells me all I need to know. He expects me to give him my name. This man… This blockheaded bastion of testosterone who barged into my car, scaring the bejeezus out of me—and okay, maybe kind of made my insides squeeze in attraction—actually thinks I’m going to swoon at his feet. As if I should be grateful for his “escort” home.
“No, you cannot.”
“Come on. Why not?”
“If I reward you for bad behavior, you’ll never learn.”
Oh my god. I sound like my home economics teacher, Mrs. Cartee. The woman was notorious for giving out loads of parenting advice when she, at fifty-four, had zero children of her own. Mom just loved those parent-teacher conferences.
“So you’re saying, if I’m good, you’ll reward me?”
“That is not what I meant.”
“It’s a small town, babe. We’re bound to run into each other sooner or later.”
“I prefer the latter,” I tell him, matter-of-factly.
“Hard to get. I like it.”
I huff. “Do you ever back down?”
“Not when I like the chase.”
“There’s nothing to chase.” My insides liquefy as his eyes travel down to my own damp T-shirt.
“Funny. I see everything worth chasing.”
Without thinking, I lean forward and use my thumb to push his chin up so he’s no longer ogling my chest. “My eyes are up here, buddy.”
“Not buddy. But until I get your name, I’m withholding mine.”
“As if I care.”
Except I kind of want to know what to call him instead of just buddy. Not that I’m going to give in. Nope.
He sighs. Smooth, flat palms rise in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ve taken enough of your time. I’ll find out who you are soon enough.” He shoots me a wink. “And I’ll wear you down