Page 50 of Unexpected Hero

As soon as I tap the answer button, his voice is loud and clear. “Lettie, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His concern for me is on brand, considering he’s my gas pump, lunch-buying savior. And now he’s going to be my sex savior too.

If I’m lucky.

“I’m here. I just dropped the phone. No injury to report.”

“Oh. Okay. You sure?”

I grin and nod as if he can see me. “Yes. I’m sure. So tonight, we’ll talk about your offer, then?”

“Uh. Yes. If you’re still interested.”

“Oh I’m still interested.” My voice sounds all jacked-up, like I sucked on a helium balloon.

Settle down, silly pants.

He clears his throat. “That’s... uh. Well, that’s great.”

Given I’m too dumbstruck to carry on the conversation, he moves it along. Thank goodness he’s in control here. Clearly, I’m not.

Control.

Like he wants to have over my body.

Shudders ripple through me. The good kind.

“Should I pick you up, or do you want to meet somewhere?”

“That depends. What did you have in mind for our,” don’t say date, don’t say date, “our meeting?”

“How about I drive you to dinner?”

A fissure of disappointment hits me. Anastasia got a helicopter ride and a private night at Christian’s penthouse.

“Dinner sounds good.” Oh maybe it’s a sexy dinner. “How should I dress?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Boo! Hiss! jeers my conscience.

“Okay. I guess you can come and get me. What time should I be ready?”

And more importantly, do I have time to play with my clit before we meet so I don’t attack you the moment you show up at my disgusting temporary home?

“Is eight too late for you? I have work to catch up on. I’m behind on some cases.”

“Cases? What kind of cases? Are you a cop?”

That would explain the whole up-against-the-wall thing — damn, that was hot — and his choice of seat positioning.

“No. Not a cop. I’m in IT and software.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing more about it later. Eight is perfect. I’ll text you the address so you know where to pick me up.”

“Great.”

Awkward silence.

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