Page 117 of Mr. Infuriating

Hiding, I suspected, after last night’s disaster.

I flipped the light switch in the kitchen and surveyed the half-demoed room.

“She had to pick up her son, then she had some errands to run.”

“Did anything happen last—”

I cut him off before he even had a chance to finish the thought.

“Nope. We had some cheesecake, and I left.”

“Oh, that’s right. You had brought cheesecake with the pizza. And forgot to offer me any.”

“Your slice is probably still in her fridge.”

“I don’t give a shit about the cheesecake. I wanna know why you didn’t close the deal with her. The electricity between you two was palpable.”

“Drop it, Beau.”

We squatted at the same time to pick up the first cabinet to move to the box truck.

“Yeah, okay, I will. For now.”

I needed to change the subject.

“What about you? Did you go home alone last night?”

“Pffft. Yeah right.”

“Are you ever going to settle down?”

“I’m sure I will someday when I meetthe one. But until then, I’ll keep playing the field.”

We maneuvered up the truck ramp and set the cupboard down at the front of the truck bed.

“How do you know you haven’t already met her?”

“I haven’t,” he replied confidently as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

“But how do you know?”

I walked down the ramp, Beau, however, chose to hop off the back of the truck onto the ground.

“Because there’s hasn’t been anyone I’ve been willing to break, or even bend, my rules for. You know, like install an engine—or say, cabinets—for free in my spare time.”

“Fuck off.”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“What’s Mav think about this, by the way?”

“He doesn’t know yet.” I shot him a stern look. “And I’d prefer to be the one to tell him.”

“My lips are sealed, man. But it might soften the blow if you’re dating her.”

“I’m not going to fucking date her!”

Beau threw his hands up in front of him as if in surrender.

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