Page 120 of Holding On To Good

And they were back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah?”

Ian nodded in that serious as a heart attack way of his. “It’s the baddest of the bad words.”

Reed glanced at her as if looking for guidance. She just shrugged. Hey, he was the one who’d cussed in front of a seven-year-old, not her. She had her own problems to deal with.

“Then you’d better not say it,” Reed warned Ian.

“I won’t.” Ian blinked up at Reed. “Do you know what it means?”

“What?”

“The bad word. I’m not allowed to say it but nobody will tell me what it means.”

“That’s because it’s so bad,” Verity said in a rush. For all she knew, Reed might take this opportunity to give all the many and varied definitions of fuck, just to pay her back for being here, startling him, and basically living and breathing and annoying him. “It’s really, really bad and little kids should never, ever say it.”

Reed’s mouth quirked, just a little, but it was enough to have her scalp tingling painfully. To have her mouth drying. “Now don’t give him the wrong idea,” he murmured, skimming his gaze over her, from the top of her tingling head to her toes, and back up to meet her eyes. “There’s nothing bad about it.”

She gave him an eye roll so huge, she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of her own brain.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“As you so charmingly pointed out when you helped get my car out of the ditch, you did me a favor, one I owe you for.” She shrugged. “I’m here to pay you back.”

He grabbed a rag from a wheeled metal cart. Wiped his hands as he studied her with that hooded gaze he loved so. “I told you I’d let you know when I’m ready to collect.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I don’t like that idea so much.”

Didn’t like owing somebody. Didn’t like the idea of sitting around, jumpy and anxious, trying to guess what, exactly, he’d ask for when he did come around.

If he came around.

Didn’t like giving him that much control.

He tossed the rag back onto the cart. “I also already told you I don’t want your money.”

“I’m not offering you money.”

He edged closer and it took all she had not to step back. Ugh. He had all the moves and she had no idea how to handle any of them.

“What are you offering me?” he asked in a low, gravelly tone that skimmed across her skin like a touch.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. No pithy, witty words meant to put him in his place. No sound of disbelief that would clearly convey he wasn’t lucky enough for her to be offering what he was implying she was offering.

Nope. Her vocal cords were stuck, paralyzed for the first time in her life. Reed Walsh had done what no male in her history had been able to do.

Rendered her speechless.

“Ice cream.”

Reed jerked back as if he was lactose intolerant and those two words alone were enough to give him a stomachache. “What?”

“I’m offering to buy you ice cream as payment of the debt I owe.”

That grin was back, amused and more than a little condescending.

“What if I don’t like ice cream?” he asked.

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