I lift a brow. “Choose,” I demand. A side of me I did not know existed until five minutes ago is rearing up from wherever it’s been hiding my entire life. A bossy, overprotective side.
She lets her shoulders slump dramatically. “Fine.” She stomps to her car, yanks open the front door, and bends over to reach under the seat.
Fuck me. The hem of her dress rises almost too far. I’m staring at my girl’s sexy legs, trying not to drool. She even lifts one as she bends over farther before finally righting herself with an umbrella in hand.
She pops it open and holds it in the air. “Happy?”
I grin as I step into her space and lift her chin. She has to tip the umbrella way back to look up at me. “So sassy… Sassy and a potty mouth. I should flip that skirt up and spank your naughty bottom.”
She gasps, her eyes going wide. Her mouth falls open. “You… You…”
I chuckle. “What? No filthy retort?”
My cock is so hard it’s painful. How the hell did we get here so fast? One second, I was standing in the library, wondering if I should ever approach this pixie again, and the next, I knew with undeniable certainty I would never turn away from her.
I don’t even like the idea of her car starting and her driving home. My conviction when it comes to her is firm. She’s mine.
She fidgets and steps back. “Are you going to look under my hood or what?”
I lift both brows. “I only mentioned looking under your skirt.”
“Ha ha. You’re delusional.”
I laugh as I slide into the front seat of her sedan and turn the key. Nothing. Probably the battery. I pop the hood, climb out, and round to the front. When I glance at her, she’s absently holding the umbrella to one side.
“Hold that over your head, baby.”
She jerks it upright and grumbles, “So bossy.”
She’s right. Whatever bossy gene my brother and cousins have manifested since arriving, apparently, I had a dormant one, too. It’s out now, though. “Don’t you forget it, pixie.”
I check the connections. Everything looks good. She obviously takes care of her car. There’s no corrosion or signs of neglect. “When was the last time you had it serviced?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
She shrugs. “A few months ago, when I got the oil changed. I’m very careful about car maintenance. I have to be.”
She’s right. As a single woman living alone, she needs to be able to rely on her car. I’m glad she’s conscientious about it. Though it doesn’t matter now. I’ll never let her get into a situation where she’s stranded. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s my responsibility.
I step close to her again because I can’t help myself. I need to be near her. I need to inhale her scent. Vanilla, I think. Maybe her lotion or shampoo or maybe both.
I stroke her cheek again. “Probably your battery. I’ll try to jump it.”
“Why would my battery suddenly go dead?” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
There’s no way to stop myself from cupping her chin and using my thumb to pull her lip free. “Sometimes it just happens. No fault of your own. Batteries go bad. Can you climb into the driver’s seat for me? After I get it hooked up, I’ll tell you when to crank the key.”
She nods, folds up the umbrella, and does as I asked.
I jog over to my rental truck and drive it across the mostly empty parking lot to line the hood up with hers. After snagging the cables from under the seat, I quickly secure all the connections and start my engine. “Now, Melody,” I yell out through the open window.
She turns the key. Nothing happens.
Leaving my truck running, I round back to her and set a hand on the roof of her car. “Try again, baby.”
She makes another attempt. Still nothing. She sighs, her shoulders sagging. When she tips her head back to look up at me, she says, “Now what?”
“Now, I drive you home, and then I call a tow truck to take it to a mechanic.”
“You can’t drive me home,” she protests.
