Page 14 of Red Flag, Green Light

Perfectly acceptable and modestly muscledarms crossed, I resort to threats. Whichmightconstitute coercion, but only if you get “technical” about it, and I’m not going to. “You’re going to help me, orIwill personallyremoveall of your tires, set them out in front of your house, fill them with dirt, and plant flowers in them.”

“So you won’t damage them and you’ll get me free flowers?” She cracks an eyelid to peek at me. “I don’t know if you know this, but I can repot things, put the tires back by myself, and get them rotated to make sure they’re balanced. I’m overdue for a rotation anyway and need the motivation to manage it.”

“I’ll move in.” What am I saying?

“You will…move in…to my house?”

“Did I stutter?”

She mutters, “I think your two working brain cells did. I’ll just go next door, talk to Jupiter—”

“Jove.”

“—and get him to bring you to therapy.”

“How dare you say something so mean to me.”

She smiles. Actuallysmiles. Not the forced things she’s been giving me thus far. And so, naturally, my heart forgets how to beat. Proud of herself, she provides an ever-delicate: “Mean? I’m not beingmean. I gave youtwo entirebrain cells thatwork. I didn’t want to think that one might be lonely.”

She is kindness incarnate.

“Even if assuming you have any at all stretches my suspended disbelief.”

I am sticking to my assessment. Given that a little ribbing is how she’s responding to a practical stranger making demands in her house,kindness incarnateremains accurate. Unfortunately, I’m bad with patience. The longer I’m here, the more chance she’ll reject me completely, not just my outlandish propositions.

Rising, I move toward Ceres and lean against the back of her loveseat, shadowing her with my “scrawny” shoulders. To avoid touching her, as that would be highly inappropriate at this point in our relationship, I tilt her chin up on one of my cards. “Are we really going to do this the hard way, little goddess?”

Heat swells in her cheeks as stars glitter in her hazel eyes. “Well, I am ever a fan of taking roads less traveled.”

“Are you busy tomorrow?” I ask.

“I have a deadline and plans, yes.”

Her only plans are to pick up a grocery order. “You still need to eat, don’t you?”

Her pretty, sparkling eyes trace away from me. “Debatable.”

I sigh. “Ceres…have you not eaten today?”

“I may have gotten distracted.”

And shopping day might betomorrow, which might mean that she is out of quick snacks, which surely means that there is nothing in her kitchen potent enough to pull her away from herwork.

I have had to watch her abuse herself forthree years. Now that I’m here, with her, something has to change.

She says, “I’ll make myself something once you stop harassing me.”

Harassing. Ha. As if this counts as harassment.

“Yes, I’m sure you will.” She won’t. Even if she does mean to in this moment, she will simply forget and go back to work once I’m out the door. “Or, consider, I could continue ‘harassing’ you if I take you out to dinner.”

A laugh breathes from her. “Are you asking me if I’ll get into a car with a man who showed up in the middle of my living room uninvited?”

I think. Maybe. I actually…just asked her on adate, but sure. Yes. Of course. Anything butthat.

Straightening, I set the card I was holding at her chin against my own and peer down into her glistening, amused, and invested eyes. Heart racing, I say, “Absolutely. Maybe I’ve taken a perverted interest in running tests on just how little self-preservation you possess.”

She stands, putting us barely inches apart as she looks up at me. Her lashes flutter, and she provides me with another heart-stopping smile. “You should have said it was for science. I’ll get my coat.” She sneaks past the arm of her chair, murmuring, “I’ve always wanted to be a woman in STEM.”

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