Page 6 of My Rules

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I hate working Saturday nights. It’s the only time I hate shift work.”

“What time do you start?”

“Eleven.”

Michael’s a security guard; his jobs are varied, and he works a lot of night shifts.

I glance at my watch. “It’s nine thirty; why did you come out if you have to leave so soon?”

“To see you. I knew if I didn’t come to see you tonight that I wouldn’t get a chance to ask for your number for another whole week.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“So?” I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile.

“Can I have your number?” He takes out his phone.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Call you and ask you out on a date.”

“Or ...” I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. “You could just ask me now.”

“Rebecca.” He gives me a beautiful broad smile. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Ahhhh!

“Okay.”

“Next . . . Saturday night?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a date then.”

“I guess it is.” Nerves flutter around in my stomach; this is the first guy I’ve felt any kind of spark from in so long. My eyes roam over the fine specimen.

Michael is tall and built like a Mack truck, huge and muscular. The kind of man I imagine could fuck you through a wall.

The thought makes me weak in the knees. Damn ... it’s been a long drought.

I’ve been as dry as the Sahara and am in desperate need of a good weekend of hot and heavy rain.

“I’m going, Bec.” A voice snaps me out of my dirty daydream, and I glance up to see Blake standing beside us. “Do you want a lift home?” he asks.

“Oh.” I frown.

“I can take you home,” Michael interrupts.

“Okay.” I smile.

“Who are you?” Blake asks.

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