“There’s only one way to find out.”
He pulled out his phone and waggled it. “Customary text to my friends, so they know who I’m with.”
“Smart.”
There was a click, and I glanced over. “Did you take my photo?”
He grinned. “Gotta show them my would-be murderer’s face.”
“Maybe I’ll just murder that ass of yours.”
He looked shocked for half a second, then laughed. “Maybe I’ll ruin yours.”
It was my turn to squirm. He grinned, eyes bright as he watched me. “Welcome to dating a guy, Damon. We can give it as good as we get it.”
The image of Maverick pinning me down, coupled withthe memories of that sex toy stuffed in my ass, vibrating so sweetly against my prostate, heated my blood.
Fuck. I was in over my head. This was supposed to be one simple date, and already, I was going off the rails.
I concentrated on watching for the turn that would lead to a little pond on my parents’ acreage. We’d be far enough from the house that no one would notice us. Besides, they were having an early night before Dad’s outpatient surgery tomorrow.
I left the truck idling to open a gate, then hopped back in and drove through. I parked under a few trees, positioning the truck so that its bed would face the pond and the sunset beyond it.
I rolled out the blanket I’d tossed in the back for this occasion, spreading it out, then placed the basket on top of it.
I hopped up, then turned and held out a hand to help Maverick step up into the pickup bed. He settled on the blanket, legs extended and crossed before him. “So, this is the magical Damon date, huh? A pickup picnic.”
“You make it sound so redneck,” I grumbled as I flipped open the picnic basket and withdrew some miniature margarita cocktails. “But look? Cocktails are classier than beer, right? It’s not wine, but…”
“Wine is overrated,” Maverick said, snatching the margarita. “This is my favorite drink.”
“I know.”
He untwisted the top, eyeing me over the rim as I unpacked the assorted cheeses, fruit, and crackers.
“Okay, so this is nicer than I expected,” he admitted, picking up a thin slice of gouda and popping it in his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed. “Mm. That’s gouda.”
I chuckled. “You have a way with words.”
He grinned at me. “So, there’s really not a prank in storefor me? I thought for sure you’d pack at least one, even if it wasn’t mean.”
“Well, the night is still young.”
He laughed. “There’s the Damon I know and hate.”
I winced. “Maybe we could soften that into something closer to like?”
He sipped his margarita, eyes narrowed on me as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. I decided it was time for me to take the initiative.
I shifted the food back so I could scoot closer to him and lean in. “Are you ready to admit my date has surpassed all others?”
“Allothers? Or just my recent ones?”
“Every date you’ve ever had, baby.”
Maverick’s lips quirked. “You think you’re special, don’t you? I’ve had better men than you try to win me over.”
I faltered. Damn. He was tougher to charm than I expected. But then, I had set the stage with years of pranking. I guess one romantic date couldn’t undo that dynamic.
