Page 19 of The Cartographer

It’s as good a question as any I suppose. “Why not?”

“You could have any guy you wanted—” Sweet, and probably true if I worked hard enough. “—why do you want me?”

“For one, I like you. You’re funny and loyal, and you’re not intimidated by me. For two, you’re an attractive man, Hart. You know that. You’ve got to work pretty hard at keeping yourself looking the way you do. As a bonus, I’ve seen the outline of your cock in your jeans. Can’t say I’d be sorry to get my hands and mouth on that.”

It’s not usual for me to lust after people. Appreciate their bodies, sure, but not the same level of attraction I have to Hart. It’s as if someone broke into my brain and used a 3D printer to fabricate my ideal man and then put him in my path. I don’t know whether to curse or thank them.

We’re approaching the street where his truck is parked, and I wish I weren’t dropping him here, but bringing him straight to his sister’s. Acquire another piece of the Hart puzzle. Even if he had me drop him off at Kendra’s, it wouldn’t be at her front door. She’d probably live a couple of blocks away, if not half a mile. I wouldn’t blame him. Some guy in a fancy car dropping him off late on a Saturday morning? Too many damn questions.

He looks out the window as I pull up to his truck, maybe surprised we’ve arrived, and it heartens me. He’s enjoyed my company.

“So what do you think?” I prod. “Tell me it’s tempting at least.”

“Very.”

Excellent.

“Then I’ll look forward to your call.”

He gives me a last look before pushing out the car door and stepping into the street, slinging his small bag over his shoulder.

“And I’ll look forward to calling. Will Matty make me pancakes again?”

Matty, huh? It’s not standard operating procedure for Matthew to introduce himself that way to strangers. It’s usuallyMatthewfor a good long while, and he doesn’t take to strangers easily. Apparently, he likes Hart. Interesting. “I’m sure he would, but you should try his eggs Benedict sometime. It’s his specialty.”

“I don’t like runny eggs.”

“Sacrilege. Then I’d stick with the pancakes so he won’t ban you from his kitchen.”

Hart grins at me, that dazzling smile, and I’d give just about anything for him to change his mind. Say, “Hey, you know what? Come to Kendra’s for lunch.” He won’t, and I’ve just told him I’m not really boyfriend material, so he likely never will. That’s fine. I’ve made my choice. Doesn’t mean there’s not an itch of disappointment anyhow as he shuts the door and waves to me through the glass. Waits for me to put the car in drive and pull away before he climbs into his truck.

Chapter Seven

‡

When I’ve gottenback on the highway, I call India and she picks up on the first ring. “Rey!”

“Bonjour, ma petite bon bon.”

“You’re insane.”

“Lucky for you.”

“What are you up to?”

“Dropped off the guy who came home with me last night.”

“How was he?” She says it with salacious interest because I’m not usually reluctant to dish on the details. Unfortunately for everyone involved, there aren’t any this time.

“Drunk. Blitzed. Sozzled. Plastered. Sloshed. Blotto. Inebriated. Intoxicated—”

“How many synonyms do you know for drunk anyway?”

“Lots. Want me to go on?”

“No, I’d rather hear about this guy you neglected to shag.”

If she were here, no doubt India would smirk at the withering glare I’m shooting the screen. I learned it from her after all. Girl’s a master scowler. “There’s not much to tell.”

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