“Don’t keep me in suspense, what’s the verdict.”
He took a deep swallow of his iced tea. “My taste buds are never going to forgive me.”
“Not your thing.”
“Not even a little.”
His unexpected grin revealed slight imperfections in his white teeth, the two top incisors were crooked. Little lines grooved the skin on either side of his eyes. The humor transformed him, and the muscles between her legs clenched painfully tight. “Well, you know what? It doesn’t have to be. But I’m proud of you for trying. Just like I’m proud of you for giving Acrobatic Yoga a chance.”
“Now that was fun.”
“Really? You enjoyed it?”
“Hell yeah. Tofu sausage can suck a nut. But watching you above me? I could do that all day.”
“Could you now?” she said softly.
He wiped his mouth. “Tell you what. We’ve been on your terms today. How about you come be on mine?”
“What do you have in mind?”
He pushed away his plate. “For starters, something that doesn’t involve curry on pizza.”
They were out in a flash. But in the parking lot her front wheel was flat.
“Oh crap,” she groaned.
Patch crouched, pulling out his keychain. There was a penlight on the end. “Someone slashed it.”
“Are you serious?” She glanced around as if she’d see a villain lurking in the shadows of the closest streetlight.
“Probably just some random punk hating on people who eat vegan pizza.” But while his tone was joking, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You got a spare? I can change this in no time, and you can get a new one tomorrow.”
“Yeah, in the trunk.” She gave a distracted hand wave to the back of her car. It was a bad feeling to be targeted, even at random. The night had felt warm, happy. And now a cold wind blew through it.
But that unsettled sensation quickly faded as she watched Patch efficiently remove the damaged tire and install the spare.
“You’re staring,” he said, squatting and screwing in a bolt.
Her tongue grazed her top lip as she admired the view. “I like to see a guy who’s good with his hands.”
“Then I got news for you.” He leapt to his feet with an effortless bound, not even using his hands. “You’re going to love me.”
And as unbelievably stupid as it sounded, she believed him.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s the verdict on my culinary skills?” Patch knew he was hovering, but didn’t care. His gaze didn’t leave Margot’s lips as she popped the second bite of his homemade Denver omelet into her mouth.
Her wide eyes went wider.
“Have I got skills or what?”
“It’s good.” She covered her mouth with her hand, chewing. “Damn, boy. That’s really, really good.”
“Hell yeah it’s good.” He demolished half of his own omelet in three more bites. “I know my way around an egg.”
“If the way my ovaries exploded as you whisked was any indication, I’d have to agree.”
