Page 22 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Her.

“I told you, it’s just a silly nickname and you don’t even have to—”

“Say it again.”

She stilled. “What?” she whispered, her eyes shifting between his own and his lips.

“Say. It. Again.”

She gulped, but she didn’t look away. She kept looking at him. At his face, which he was sure resembled that of a starving animal right in that moment. She took a deep breath, preparing herself and—

His cellphone rang.

He nearly threw the fucking thing across the café.

Damn you, little cock block.

He watched her as he spoke on the phone. Her face went from shy to disappointed to relieved in the span of a minute. The last one hurt at first. When he finally hung up his head was clear and he knew exactly why she felt relieved.

Because this wasn’t a date. They weren’t two people meeting for the first time.

Her father was his business rival for crying out loud. The man tried to steal his business associates every chance he got. But for a moment, just a single moment, he’d forgotten that.

And he wanted to forget again. So he kept up their little game. He asked her a question this time.

“Why baby pink?” That was all he could come up with in that moment.

She took a second to compose herself and turned to look at him before answering.

“If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t laugh.”

Just like that, he was back in his playful mood. He nodded once, signifying he promised and she went on.

“My mother had always loved colors. She was the kind of woman that color coded everything, making sure any decor would be perfectly aesthetic. So, when she had kids, she color coded them, and she gave me her favorite color. My full name is Allison Pink Lockwood,” she explained. His mind got caught on the way she used past tense.

“I’m sorry.” She looked confused by his apology, so he continued. “About your mother.”

Her eyes grew misty, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t allow the smallest tear.

My strong girl.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him, looking away.

He loved the vulnerability they shared, but he wanted her spark back. So he changed the subject.

“Why that shade though? Why not fuchsia? Or salmon?”

His knowledge of different shades of the color brought an amused smile to her face.

“I will admit, I’m a bit scared that you know multiple shades of pink.” She smirked at him and he was forced to remind himself exactly why he couldn’t just grab this woman and claim her lips, her body, her fucking soul.

“Come on, Pinkie. Spill,” he spurred her on. A smirk of his own adorned his face as hers grew wider, her cheeks filling with color once more.

“I don’t really know. I’ve always liked pastel colors more than vibrant shades, I guess. Maybe that’s it.” She shrugged, but the smirk never left her face.

“Buckle up, then, Pinkie,” he said with a playful glint in his eye, his tone teasing.

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity coloring her face. “Oh? And why’s that?”

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