Page 79 of Unexpected Hero

He opens his mouth to speak, but his question finally computes, so I blurt out my answer. Fuck you, ADHD.

“Part of my issue with accepting gifts is because I was raised to feel inferior to men. Accepting something with a monetary value from a man — or anyone for that matter — reminds me of that shitty feeling. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. If I can’t afford something on my own, I don’t want it.”

“You aren’t dependent on me. You just need a hand right now.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No.” Pausing briefly, he purses his lips. “If you had no prospects for improving your situation and no hope for the future, then you’d be dependent. You’re just in a rough spot at the moment. It’s not permanent.”

I let his words steep, unsure how much I buy the sentiment. “It still feels icky. I promise to pay you back every cent.”

“If it makes you feel better, fine. But it’s not necessary.”

“Are you shittin’ in high cotton or something?” I tease.

Through a wide smile, he says, “Your Southernisms are going to bring out my old accent if I spend much more time around you.”

“I hear it a little when you say my name,” I admit, then put my head down. Not sure why that confession embarrassed me, but I rarely make sense. Even to myself.

I notice a bob in his throat right before he obliterates what’s left of mygood sense by purring my name in the sexiest twang I’ve ever heard. “You mean when I say Lettie?”

“Yes,” I squeak. “But please don’t do that again unless you intend to pull over and do that thing you mentioned you wanted to do to me. On the side of the road. With the hair and the hood. That thing.”

He takes one hand from the wheel to scruff it down his face while groaning into his palm. “Lettie, stop that shit.”

That time, it wasn’t Southern or sexy sounding. But I still liked it.

I feel a touch guilty for teasing him, but he’s got me all riled up with his... I don’t know what it is about him that gets me going, to be frank.

I just like him.

“I’ll behave. For now.”

His chest shakes with silent laughter. “And here I was... thinking you were a good girl.”

For once, I keep my mouth shut.

The longer this evening goes on, the more comfortable I become with him. We’ve fallen into an easy rhythm. There are patches of peaceful quiet interspersed with levity. “Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”

When he stops at the traffic light near my hotel, he quirks his head at me with his brows drawn tight. “Lettie, you broke your damn toes, and we spent an hour in the urgent care.”

I shrug off his dismissal. “Yeah, but the company was sure nice. Best I’ve ever had while getting X-rays or medical care. And there’s a lot of competition for that honor.”

His face softens as he stares back at me. The air grows thick with sexual tension. He brings his hand up toward my shoulder again, trailing his fingers over that patch of skin he seems drawn to. The spot beside my sundress strap. I get an involuntary chill.

A car horn blares from behind us. We both flinch, severing our connection.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to the road. The light has turned green.

We don’t speak for the last few minutes of our drive.

Once he parks and cuts off the ignition, he faces me. “Wait there,” he orders, a hint of velvet bossiness in his tone. “I’ll come around to help you out.”

“Okay,” I answer, barely able to speak.

He grabs the crutches from the backseat. While he circles the car, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for more sexual frustration.

I will not beg him for a goodnight kiss. I’m better than that.

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