“Okay, I get the picture.”
“What I’m saying is, the only time he turns a girl down is when he has another one waiting for him.”
Is that what I’m doing?Waiting for him?Like some, I don’t know, pathetic little puppy?Ready to sit and stay and roll over?I battle the desire to curl in on myself even more.“Pretty sure that makes me sound desperate,” I mumble.
“Let me finish.”She grabs my arm, giving me a playful wiggle.“You, I’ve yet to see make out with him in public.”
“Which means?”
“That you aren’t a performance,” she says.
My brows pull.
“You, my dear June, are something orsomeone,” she emphasizes, “he wants to keep all to himself until he’s ready to show you off to the world on his terms.Not everyone else’s.”
The idea alone is enough to make my knees weak.“So, I’m not his dirty little secret?”I ask.
“You're his precious little secret.There’s a difference.”She turns to Ford.“Why, hello, Jeep.”
He gives her an unamused look.“Not you, too.”
Violet’s grin stretches.“Nah, that was from Lexie.”She gives him a quick hug.“I heard you’re racing tonight?”
“Gotta give the people what they want.”
“Yeah, because you hate the limelight,” she tosses back at him.
With a low laugh, he shakes his head.“You know me too well.”
“Damn right, I do,” she agrees.“See what he said, June?I know him too well.”Her lashes flicker with a wink.“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to wait for Jagger at the starting line.See you.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll come with you,” I offer.
I take a step closer to Violet, committing to the pathetic puppy bit when Ford challenges, “And play the third wheel?Nah, that doesn’t sound like you.”
It sounds exactly like me.I know it, Violet knows it, and clearly, Ford knows it, too.And even though I’m pretty sure the pathetic June ship has already sailed, I ramble, “Well, I mean, I figured you should probably focus and all.You know, don’t want to throw off your groove before the race.”
His mouth lifts ever so slightly.Probably because I used the term groove, though he’s nice enough not to call me out for it.This time, anyway.Smoothing his features, he counters, “Nah, you could never throw off my groove, June Bug.If anything, you’re my good luck charm.”
Not sure how that’s possible, considering I’ve only seen him race once, and he probably doesn’t even remember my presence that night, let alone whether or not I helped him win anything.He probably has a dozen other good luck charms who are used to rubbing hisothertrophy for good luck, if you know what I mean.Okay, now I’m acting really crazy.
“Come on, let me show you my baby,” he says.
The term makes me smile, managing to ease my anxiety ever so slightly, as he grabs my hand and laces our fingers together.There it is again.The same quiver in my chest that happens whenever he’s around me.You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m pretty sure us sleeping together has only made it worse.He guides me around the hood of a flashy lime green car and opens the passenger door.“This is Esmerelda, my baby.”
I pull back.“You named your car?”
“You’re surprised?”I give him a look that screams,duh, and he clarifies, “A wise woman once told me it’s important to name the things you love.”
My stupid heart pitter-patters even harder as I tear my attention from the lime green paint to the gorgeous man crowding me next to the open passenger door.He remembered our conversation about Quasimodough?Why does that make me want to kick up my feet and do a happy dance?
“Wise, huh?”I murmur.
“Very wise.”
My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning.“From what I remember, you were teasing her for naming her sourdough.”
“Teasing, flirting.”He lifts his hand and tucks my hair behind my ear.“Is there a difference?”
