stretching up his dimpled cheek. It was definitely a statement. “How do you know?” I ask.
He moves behind me, placing his hands over each of my shoulders, turning me toward a newish black pick-up truck. “This town isn’t that big, Blondie-locks.” He pulls a key fob out of his pocket and unlocks the doors, opening the passenger side for me.
I stop before climbing in, turning to face him. “I don’t know anything about you, and I’m climbing into your truck. For all I know, you could take me away somewhere and never bring me back.” Which honestly, doesn’t sound so bad right now. This living by the seat of my pants thing is so not me. But it’s kind of freeing.
“My name is Hayes Peyton. I’m twenty-nine. A Virgo. Single. Been single for about two years. Never married. I like to take long walks in the park at night, and I find myself incredibly attracted to girls with long, beachy blond hair, freckles, and doll-like eyes. Especially girls who can cook and who have a sense of humor.”
I finger the necklace dangling over my collarbone, looking down and away from his pointed focus. But he places a finger under my chin, lifting my face back up to look at him. “I used to be a detective, but I’m on a hiatus right now. By choice.” He pulls his hand away, letting it drop by his side. “And right now, I’m sort of kicking myself for planting the creep idea in your head.”
I’ve always claimed to be a good judge of character, and since my apprehension is melting away, I chance it and slide into his truck. When the door closes, I’m greeted with the aromatic combination of cologne and leather—a manly-scented wind tunnel of goodness. It’s nice.
Glancing around, I notice how immaculate the truck is. There’s nothing personal in here, except a small picture under his sun visor. I can’t tell what the image is…all I can see is the bottom of a purple floral dress.
When he drops into his seat, he tucks the picture further into the visor, as if he sees me looking at it. Then he adjusts his rear view mirror. “You good?”
If by “good” he means I’m at the point where I don’t care if he’s about to abduct me, then yeah. I’m great. “I’m fine,” I say, not sounding overly believable.
We end up stuck in downtown traffic, giving me a good opportunity to find out a little more about him, which I’m thinking is necessary. “So,” I begin, trying to give him warning of my incoming barrage of questions.
“So…” he responds.
“Why are you on a hiatus from work?”
He glances at me, then back out the front window. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the whites of his knuckles expanding. The quiet pause grows longer and I’m now regretting my question.
“Do you like hot dogs?” he asks in response.
“Wow. You kind of suck at changing the subject.” I look forward, purposely ignoring his question.
“How about you tell me why you were crying the other night, and I’ll tell you why I’d rather talk about hot dogs.”
Is this how he gets to know someone, by extracting their deepest and darkest secrets first so the rest will be a cakewalk? If I tell him what my life consists of right now, I’m not sure he’ll stick around long enough to tell me his story.
“Maybe we should start more simply.” I press my finger to my lips, thinking of the least invasive question I can come up with. “Since you’re asking me about hot dogs, what kind of food do you like?” He relaxes in his seat, almost like he’s relieved to be off the hook.
“Hot dogs,” he says. Should have seen that one coming. “And you, Blondie-locks? What’s your favorite food?” He peers over at me. “Being a chef, it’s probably something crazy like Bird’s Nest Soup or something. Am I right?”
I twist my lips into a smirk. “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you.”
His dimpled half-smile reappears. Oh my God. He has to stop doing this to me. “Probably, but try me anyway.”
“Okay, but don’t laugh.”
“This is going to be a deal breaker, isn’t it?” he mutters to himself.
I cock my head to the side and playfully slap his arm. “It’s mac and cheese.”
“Get out,” he says, pointing to the door. “You’re too damn crazy for me.” He’s bone-dry serious for a few solid seconds. And then he busts out laughing. “There’s no way that’s