Page 138 of The Dixon Rule

“Hey,” I growl. “Be careful.”

“Sorry—”

“We’ve got a cooler full of sausage in the back.”

“Oh. You’re worried about the sausage. I thought you were concerned about the tires.” She shakes her head at me. “I can’t believe you spent that much money on meat.”

“You said your father was a meat fan.”

“You’re such a suck-up.”

“I mean, he’s your dad and he’s a cop. I’m not an idiot. I don’t really want to get on his bad side. And trust me, once you taste these veal bratwursts, you’ll understand why they cost so much.”

She shrugs and slows down when she notices another pothole. “Eh. You know I don’t care about food.”

Yeah, I’ve noticed. Diana eats whatever’s available. “I don’t get you. Food is awesome.”

“Food is fuel. I don’t care what it tastes like. And I can eat anything because my gag reflex is nonexistent.”

“Damn right it is.” I wink at her.

She rolls her eyes.

Truth is, though, she takes my cock so good. Fuck. I shiver just thinking about it.

“Don’t get horny,” she warns. “We’re not stopping for car sex.”

“Or we could stop for car sex.”

“We are not stopping.” She’s laughing again.

“We should’ve driven up last night instead of early this morning,” I grumble. “Then we’d be having morning sex right now.”

“I had to work,” she reminds me.

“You could’ve called in sick.”

“Shane. Not everybody is a lady of leisure like you.”

I snicker.

“Seriously.” She gives me a sidelong look. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling everyone to blow off work. You do it all the time. With me, with your friends. Some people can’t do that.”

“I’m joking. I know they’re not actually going to do it.”

“Yeah, but it’s your cavalier attitude toward this stuff. Like, yes. We’re all aware that you can blow off work. It’s a bit insulting sometimes, the way you act like having a job is beneath you.”

Well, damn. I’ve been put in my place.

And suddenly my mind is running through every conversation I’ve ever had with everyone I’ve ever known.

Do I really do that?

“I guess I have been making fun of Will lately,” I say pensively, discomfort roiling inside me. “About how he’s cheaping out on his backpacking trip. But he’s rich too! Why would he travel on a shoestring budget when his dad’s a congressman?”

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