Savage Garden starts to play quietly again. “Thisaccounts for good taste?”
He sounds just like Dalton. I make a note to never introducethem. Not just because they’d gang up on me, but because my brother is a sneaky fucker. He’d try to snatch a cutie like Ansel from right under my nose, just as he tried with Matthias and Wyatt.
Actually, maybe it’d be okay. Dalton doesn’t go for younger guys. He likes them older. And much wiser than this little butterfly. A man he’d date would never kidnap a Buckingham, accidentally or otherwise.
“Savage Garden is perfection,” I argue. “The perfect blend of upbeat rhymes and dramatic angst. What more could you want?”
“They literally just went ‘ooh, ahh’ for a whole thirty seconds.”
I nod solemnly, forgetting Ansel can’t see me. “Well, the nineties are known for their harmonies. It’s practically a trademark.”
Ansel doesn’t say anything, but I can practically feel his disagreement from here. That’s fine. I can educate him on everything he’s missing out on while we’re on this little adventure. Nothing like having a captive audience.
I mean, sure. Technically, I’m the captive one, but it still counts. It’s not like Ansel can go anywhere. That’s not responsible kidnapper behavior.
I make a note to remind him of it if he makes any noise about doing that.
Hopefully, it’s just going to be us on this journey. I’d hate to have this turn violent if anyone else enters the picture.
The rumble of the engine cuts off. “We’re here.”
Oh goodie. Guess I’m about to find out.
3
CADE
The trunk opens, and I blink up at Ansel, who looks less sassy than earlier and more scared. My brows draw together. Hm, I don’t like that. Not one bit. Is he not having fun? I know I am.
I lift my head slightly, frowning at him. “Hey, why the long face?”
Now he’s the one frowning. “I don’t have a long face.”
“Your face is very pretty. Not actually long at all. What I meant is, you look scared.”
His throat bobs. He squares his shoulders, and I can tell he’s going for intimidating. It’s so fucking adorable. Makes me want to squash him in a hug. “I’m not scared. Not at all. Now get up.”
Ansel pokes me in my bare chest, and I bite my bottom lip in anticipation. I like him touching me.
He can do that anytime.
I sigh dramatically. “I think you need to help me again. I’m very weak and incapable.”
His eyes fall on my abs, and I flex them a little so he can really see the definition. I’m proud of these babies. What’s the point in spending as much time as I do in the gym if you don’t show them off?
Ansel still hasn’t looked away. “I think that core can get you up all by yourself.”
“Admiring me, huh?”
He flushes. “No. I hate abs. They’re gross, really. Not natural at all.”
Now that’s a lie. Who doesn’t like abs? Especially the ones I have? They’re literal perfection.
When I continue to just lie in the trunk, Ansel scowls, his hands going to his hips. “Seriously, get up. I don’t have the muscles to carry you inside.”
But I could carry you inside.I try to get the horny part of my brain under control, but it’s difficult when this is the most fun I’ve had in years. “And where exactly are you taking me?”
He glances behind him, and when I follow his line of vision, I feel my pants tighten a little more. It’s better than I could’ve hoped—just one small building and no one else around for, hopefully, miles.
