I’m a loaded spring set loose at his insinuated remark. Mercy, that man could get anything he wanted with that wink and smirk of his.
Releasing my grip on his seat, I fall back with athumpagainst my own seat. Darcy watches me from an angle, but I’m too focusedon trying to discreetly fan myself to pay his scowl much attention. Ren turns back to the front, but he lowers his visor and situates the mirror where I can see him, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he can see me, if the intense smolder is any indication.
This is the kind of sexy stare men give while they do the latest dancing trend on social media.
I never thought one would be directed at me outside of a screen.
Darcy harrumphs, ruining the moment.Come on, dude. I was in the process of melting into a puddle.
“When was the last time you hadprivate timewith another woman?” Darcy asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Ren doesn’t take his eyes off me as he replies. “A gentleman does not kiss and tell.”
“You don’t kiss at all. Well, unless we count that one time in tenth grade—”
“I’m appalled you would bring that up.” Ren abruptly turns and faces Darcy, who is… smiling?
I didn’t know he knew how to do that unless he was in front of a camera or crowd.
The smile is genuine, not forced.
It’s kind of breathtaking.
And that’s a thought I will banish to the depths of Sheol for the rest of eternity.
“Quit pretending to be the flirt you most certainly are not. You forget how to speak in front of most women you like,” Darcy says. His smug expression grows. I turn to look at Ren, whose sexy stare has turned into a sexy grimace.
“It’s not pretending if it’s working,” Ren mumbles. Then louder and with a transfixed smile, “Right, Hayden?” He shifts brown eyes back to me.
Right!However, if he can speak and flirt with me like it’s nobody’s business, then I’m assuming he isn’t interested. What a bummer. We would’ve had beautiful babies.
“Um, I guess,” I dumbly reply while fiddling with a loose curl dangling in front of my face. I focus on deep breaths to cool my heated face and slow down my disappointed heart.
“Stop flirting with my campaign manager.” Darcy’s voice is dark, making him sound like Batman.
“Why? It’s not like she’s your woman.”
I throw my hand over my mouth as if that would contain the roar of laughter bubbling inside me.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
Ren tilts his head to the side in amusement while Darcy narrows his eyes at me, his mouth agape.
“What’s so unbelievably funny that you can’t control yourself?” Darcy asks, utterly offended.
I shift my finger between us, indicating that the idea of an “us” is terrifyingly hilarious as I continue to boisterously laugh. Me? Darcy’s woman? Not in a million years. Not if we were the last two people on this Earth.
Darcy gives his signature scowl, and Ren situates himself correctly in his seat. He flips the visor up.
My manic laughter ceases when Darcy unbuckles his seatbelt and slides closer to me, his tall, built frame fully occupying the center seat plus some.
“There are thousands of women who would jump at the opportunity to be my woman. I’ve rejected all the women you’ve brought to me, not the other way around.”
With every passing word, I shrink. I don’t know if it’s the all-black suit he’s sporting, the way his eyes match the suit, his husky Batman voice, or his suffocating closeness, but I have the overwhelming desire to apologize for my seemingly offensive laughter.
But enough of that.
I’m not a woman who cowers from speaking the truth.
