“I believe in them for other folks,” he admitted. “Just not for myself.”
Right, she thought with a silent snort.I get it.
“You don’t believe in happily-ever-afters for yourself because you’re a lone wolf, and there are too many fish in the sea to catch one and be done?”
She didn’t care that she’d mixed her metaphors. It was becoming clear he was one ofthosetypes. The type that used phrases likealpha maleandboys will be boys.
He blanched and ran a hand through his hair.
She wished he’d stop doing that. When he did, it made his cowlick stick up. And despite her having lost all interest in him as a potential bed partner, she still had to fight not to reach up and pat it down.
Would his hair feel soft or coarse? Cool or warm to the touch?
It doesn’t matter!she firmly told herself.He’s an asshole. And we avoid assholes like the smelly shitbags they are.
“God, no,” he finally said with a hard shake of his head. “I’m not a total douche nozzle.”
She crossed her arms and ankles—an unconsciously protective stance that meant Peanut lost the ability to jungle gym his way around her calves. He meowed his displeasure before wandering off.
Eyeing Britt consideringly, her expression told him that the jury was still out on the whole douche nozzle verdict.
“A happily-ever-after comes with risks I’m not willing to take,” he explained, and something moved across his face. Some emotion she couldn’t name.
“What sort of risks?” she couldn’t help asking.
Yes, she should shut up. Yes, she should turn and leave. It didn’t matter what his reasons were for rejecting her. He had. End of story.
Except…shehatedquestion marks. Call it a byproduct of the job or call it natural curiosity.
“Let’s just say the big L is out of the question for me.”
She blinked. Then she shook her head. “So what? You don’t date. Like,ever? Because it might turn into something more?”
She found that hard to believe. He was the sort of man who would need floaties to swim through all his female admirers.
“I date. I just don’t date anyone who wants more than I can give.”
“And what can you give?”
“Fun for now but not forever.”
She laughed. “So what made you jump to the conclusion when I asked you out for a drink that I was in the market for forever?”
“Aren’t you?” he countered.
“Answer the question, Sergeant Rollins.” She cocked her hip so she’d have somewhere to shove her fisted hand.
“I like it when you use your FBI voice on me.” The smile he gave her was fully weaponized. Like, seriously, it could lay waste to a woman’s heart. And ovaries.
“You won’t distract me,” she said with a sniff, even though she was sodistracted. “When I asked you for a drink, what made you think I was looking for forever?”
“Family history,” he said simply.
It took great willpower not to call him a dirty name. “Are you being purposefully cryptic or has caffeine overload stolen my ability to think straight?”
He chuckled. And just like before, that sound went all through her. “I googled you, Julia.”
She gulped because her given name sounded so very right in his mouth. “Youdid?”
