She sighed. She’d danced only three dances this week. At the rate things were going, next time she’d be lucky to get in one dance before the fight started.
When she got her car key out of her purse, he took it from her, unlocked the door, then opened it for her before returning the key. He watched, his expression inscrutable, as she buckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle to close the door.
He stood in the way, frowning a little now. “I’ll follow you home.”
“Why?” Her surprise was plain.
He shrugged. “Because I just got an itch between my shoulder blades. Because I heard you’ve moved and I don’t like the street. Just because.”
“Thanks, but it isn’t necessary. I left the porch light on.”
He bared his teeth in a grin that wasn’t a grin. “Humor me,” he said, and it wasn’t a suggestion.