“The shop is on the North Side. Which, as you know, doesn’t count asthe ’hood.” She made the quote marks with her fingers.
“Fine.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I didn’t think you felt the same, so I figured it was better if I kept how I felt about you to myself. There.Is that better?”
“Youdidn’tthink I felt the same? Past tense? What changed your mind? Not that kiss.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the spot where they’d almost eaten each other alive. Goose bumps peppered her skin at the memory. “For all you know, that was just me putting on a show, proving I got chops when it comes to the ol’ tongue tango.”
His lips twitched likehe wanted to smile, but for some reason, he refused to. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a decidedly singular way with words?”
“Thanks to my South Side raising, yo.” She beat a fist against her chest and pursed her mouth into a duck face worthy of a selfie. “Ever watched an episode ofShameless?That pretty much sums it up.”
“I thoughtShamelesswas set in the Back of the Yards neighborhood.Aren’t you from Bridgeport?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Different zip, same attitude. And you’re doing it again. Christian Watsoning your way out of answering my question.”
“Stop using my name as a verb.”
“Stop skirting the issue. What changed your mind? What made you think I want you?”
He regarded her for so long she began to think he was refusing to answer. Then he said, “I wasthinking about how you were so quick to scramble off Angel when I came ’round the corner of the manor earlier. I was thinking about how you were so quick to tell me that finding the two of you in a tangle wasn’t what I thought it was. I was thinking that you wouldn’t have done either of those things unless you didn’t fancy me getting the wrong impression. And then I was thinking… Whywouldn’tshe fancy me getting the wrong impression? Why would she care what I thought?”
“And the answer you hit on was that Iwantedyou? That’s a pretty big assumption. Ever considered seeing a plastic surgeon to have your ego downsized?”
The stare he fixed on her was so hard, so sharp, that she imagined herself pinned to a corkboard like a butterfly.
“Am I wrong?” Challenge gleamed in hisdistracting, too-pretty eyes.
She considered lying. A lie was so much easier than the truth. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Maybe because she respected him too much. Maybe because he was putting himself out there, and she couldn’t bear the thought of trampling all over him. Whatever the reason, she heard herself say, “No. You aren’t wrong. But it doesn’t change anything. To use oneof your phrases,that”—once again, she arced a thumb over her shoulder—“won’t happen again.”
His eyes went from blazing fire to green ice. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t mix business with pleasure. Ever.”
