Want You to Want Me - Lorelei James Page 0,129
and long legs.
And huge lungs, because his voice continued to escalate. His pace increased. He gestured wildly with the hand not holding the phone. He couldn’t see me scowling at him, as his head was down and his baseball cap put his face in shadow. Not that he’d looked my way even one time to see if his loud, one-sided conversation might be bothering me.
Look at me, look at me! My job is so crucial that I can’t even go to the car wash without dealing with such pressing matters.
Ugh. I hated when people acted inconsiderate and self-important.
He stopped moving. “Fine. It’s stupid as shit, but an increase of one dollar if it’ll make you happy to have on record that my salary went up again this year. I’ll let you keep one hundred percent of that dollar instead of your usual twenty percent commission.” Pause. “Do you hear me laughing? Look. I’m done with this convo, Peter. Call me after the trade is over. Bye.”
I flipped through a couple of pages.
He sighed and shoved his phone in his back pocket. Then I sensed him taking in his surroundings for the first time. The lack of customers, no car going through the car wash to entertain him.
Please don’t assume I’ll entertain you. He was definitely that type of guy.
I silently willed him to go away. But I’ll be damned if the man didn’t plop down on the bench directly across from me. I felt his gaze moving up my legs from my heeled suede boots to where the hem of my wool skirt ended above my knees.
Continuing to ignore him, I thumbed another magazine page and took a swig of my soda.
“Ever have one of those days?” he asked me.
The smart response would’ve been no response. I’m not sure what compelled me to say, “One of those days where you’re enjoying a rare moment of quiet and some rude guy destroys it with an obnoxiously loud phone conversation? Why yes, ironically enough, I am having one of those days right now.”
Silence.
Then he laughed. A deep rumble of amusement that had me glancing up at him against my better judgment.
Our eyes met.
Holy hell was this man gorgeous. Like male model gorgeous with amazing bone structure and aquamarine-colored eyes. And his smile. Just wry enough to be compelling and “aw shucks” enough to be charming and wicked enough that I had a hard time not smiling back.
“I’m sorry. I don’t normally carry on like that, but he was seriously missing my point.”
“So I gathered.” Dammit. I’d confessed I’d been listening in.
He leaned in, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’m serious. I’m not that annoying cell phone guy.”
“Maybe not normally, but you were today.”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“No. Also now you’ve moved on from being ‘annoying cell phone guy’ to annoying guy determined to convince me that he’s not annoying cell phone guy . . . which is even more annoying.”
His grin widened. “I’m supposed to apologize for that too? Okay. Sorry for interrupting your quality time reading”—he snatched the magazine off my lap—“Redbook and this article on how to prioritize organization in day-to-day life.”
My cheeks flamed even as I scooted forward to snatch back my magazine. “Gimme that.”
“After you answer two questions. First, are you married, engaged or currently involved with someone? And if the answer is no, will you go out on a date with me so I can prove that I’m not annoying?”
I laughed. “I actually believed you couldn’t get more annoying, but I was wrong.”
“Are you single?”
“Annoying and tenacious—there’s a winning combo,” I retorted.
“And she hedges yet again. Fine. Don’t answer. I’ll just read this fascinating article that’s got you so engrossed you can’t even answer a simple question.”
“Gimme back my magazine.”
He lifted a brow. “I doubt it’s your magazine. I’ll bet you took it from the stack over there that’s for customers to share.”
“Fine. Keep it.”
“Let’s start over.” He tossed the magazine aside and offered his hand. “I’m Jaxson. What’s your name, beautiful?”
Calling me beautiful threw me off. I automatically answered, “Lucy,” and took his hand.
“Lucy. Lovely name. Please put me out of my misery, Lovely Lucy, and tell me that you’re single.”
“I’m single but I’m not interested in flirting with you because you’re bored at the car wash and I’m convenient.”
He flashed me a grin that might’ve made me weak kneed had I been standing. “I’m far from bored. Let me prove it by taking you out for dinner. I promise I’ll be on my least-annoying behavior.”
That’s when I realized he still held my hand. That’s also when I realized I was a sucker for his tenacious charm, because I said, “Okay. But if that cell phone comes out even one time I will snatch it from you and grind it under my boot heel as I’m walking away.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
I tugged my hand free before he did something else completely charming like kiss my knuckles. “Are you single?”
“Yes, ma’am. And this is the first time I’ve asked a woman I met at a car wash for a date.”
“This is the first time I’ve agreed to a date with a man I find a—”
“Attractive?” he inserted. “Amusing? Feel free to use any A-word except the one you’ve repeatedly overused.”
“Calling you an asshole is an acceptable A-word?”
“Damn. Opened myself up for that one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, in your arrogance.”
Another laugh. “I’m definitely not bored with you. Now where am I taking you for our dinner date?”
I smirked. “Pizza Lucé.”
“Hilarious, Luce.”
“I’m serious. That’s where I want to go.”
“For real?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
“I figured you’d pick someplace more upscale.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m the pizza and beer type.”
He leaned in. “I’d ask if this was a setup, with you being a sharp-tongued brunette with those big brown Bambi eyes, because you’re exactly my type. But I stopped here on a whim, so I know my friends and family aren’t fucking with me.”
“Mr. Jaxson, your vehicle is ready,” a voice announced via the loudspeaker.
I cocked my head. “You refer to yourself by your last name?”
He shook his head. “Long story that I’ll explain over pizza and beer.”
“Miz Q, your vehicle is ready,” echoed from the loudspeaker.
Jaxson—Mr. Jaxson—whatever his name was—winked. “Lucy Q? What’s the Q stand for?”
“Nothing.”
We stood simultaneously.
“Come on. Tell me,” he urged.
“Maybe, as a single woman in a public venue, I didn’t use my real name or initial as a safety precaution.”
That declaration—a total lie—was worth it to see his smugness vanish.
Outside, the attendants stood by our cars.
No surprise that Mr. Annoying and Tenacious drove a Porsche.
But my eyes were on how spiffy my beloved blue Corolla looked. I smiled at the attendant and slipped him five bucks. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
I looked across the roof of my car to see my date staring at me. “I’d say the last one to arrive at Pizza Lucé has to buy the first round, but my Toyota is at a disadvantage in comparison to that beast.”
“I planned on following you, in case you decided to make a detour.”
“Worried that I might come to my senses and change my mind about this bizarre date?”
“Yep.” He grinned at me. “Lead the way, Lucy Q. I’ll be right behind you.”
About the Author
Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Need You series, the Blacktop Cowboys series, and the Mastered series. Her books have won the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award as well as the CAPA Award.
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