Daisy relaxes against the seat. "I love to hear that. It gets exhausting."
Why do I get the feeling there's something she's not telling me? Something more to her sentence, a deeper meaning?
I start to drive as Daisy reaches out, pushing down on the button to lower the window. She does it again, and when it doesn't work, she presses it a third time before turning to me. Outrage tugs at her eyes, mouth agape.
"Did you turn on child lock on the window?"
Dammit. I was really hoping she wasn't going to try and roll down the window, and then my surreptitious use of the child-lock function would go unnoticed. But, no.
"Yes, but—" I check to see if she's mad. Her arms are crossed, and her body is facing me, her knee bent and propped on the seat at a ninety degree angle. She looks less than happy to have been thwarted, but there's a playful curiosity in the lift of her cheekbones. "I like the way you smell," I admit.
She blinks in surprise. "You like the way I smell?"
We roll to a stop at a red light, and I'm able to turn my full attention to her. Her pulse flutters in her neck, and I bet I could feel the thrumming under my tongue, her scent invading my senses.
"I don't know what it is, Daisy. Plum, I think, but I know there's vanilla in there and something spicy." Only a fool would make this known. It's me. I'm the fool.
Daisy's eyes glimmer with satisfaction, and my body exhales. "It's my perfume," she says, a coy smile playing on her lips.
"It's...intoxicating."
She stills, her eyes remain fixed on mine. Attraction races through the cab of my truck, thick and hot and heady.
She's engaged.
In my peripheral vision I see the car in front of me start to move for the light that has turned green. A self-deprecating laugh wrenches from my throat. "It probably wasn't my most brilliant idea."
"For you to hotbox yourself with my scent?"
"Hotbox?"
"Hotboxing is when you?—"
"I know what hotboxing is," I interrupt, laughing. "I guess I didn't think of it that way. But it's accurate."
The light turns green, and I start to drive. "So," Daisy says after a minute. "Are you high?"
I should say no. Or at least saynot yet.
But I don't.
My knuckles scrape my jawline, and I say, "Sunshine, I might as well be a kite."
Chapter 23
Daisy
"Doyou mind if we stop at my house to drop off Slim Jim before I take you back to your car? He needs food and a bathroom break." Peter leans a forearm on the center console, eyebrows lifted as he asks me the question.
"Sure, no problem." A flurry of excitement starts in my belly at the prospect of our time together not yet coming to a close. "You've seen where I live. It's only fair if I see where you're living."
Peter makes a right instead of a left, taking him in the direction of the house where he's staying. My hands press together between my knees, my quiet attempt to keep my thrill at spending more time with him to myself.
"Whatcha doing over there?" Peter asks, throwing a curious glance my way.
I withdraw my hands. "Nothing."
"That was notnothing.You were pushing your hands together like you were crushing something between them. A clear sign of suppression."
