Page 23 of Getting the Grinder
I lower my brows, suspicious. “Did something happen to Suki? Or one of the girls? I don’t want to wait; you need to tell me now.”
“No, they’re fine. This isn’t about them.”
My heart races as I consider the options. None of them is good.
“Is it about Carter?”
Agitation flashes in his eyes. “No. It’s nothing bad. I need to ask you a favor.”
“Leo, if you agreed to pet sit again, I’m going to kick you directly in the balls. There’s no way I’m helping you.”
He shakes his head. “Will you stop? Just get in my car and let’s go get some dinner. Anywhere you want.”
I look him up and down. The jeans and coat are working well on his tall, muscular frame. The lack of a hat or gloves sends the message that he’s too manly to be bothered by the cold. And the breath clouding in front of his face is making me imagine what his breath would feel like on my bare skin.
But it’s Leo. He drives me crazy, and one night of great sex isn’t worth him never letting me live it down.
It’s not. I have to forcefully remind my sex-deprived self that riding him is a bad idea I’ll regret later.
I unlock my car door. “Let me guess—there’s a party in your pants and I’m invited? No thanks. I wasn’t coming onto you with the prank. It was just a prank and it’s over.”
“Mara.”
His stern tone makes me turn and face him. His expression is almost troubled ... like he genuinely needs something and doesn’t want to have to ask me for help.
“Okay.”
I lock my car and get in the passenger side of his instead. It has that heavenly, leathery new car smell and is pristinely clean. My car smells like coffee and is covered with cracker crumbs.
“Where do you want to eat?” he asks.
He looks so damned troubled that I can’t help feeling bad for him.
“You don’t have to take me out to dinner. Just tell me what you need. I can’t fix anyone’s court cases, though, if that’s what it is. Not even a parking ticket. I could lose my job.”
“It’s not that.” He wraps one of his big hands around the steering wheel and looks over at me. “You like seafood?”
“Yeah, but seriously, we don’t have to go to dinner.”
My car seat is deliciously warm, the heat seeping into my back and legs. I could have had a car like this someday if I’d been smart and stayed in corporate law. I’ll probably be driving my beater well into my fifties.
“Well, I haven’t eaten yet,” he says, his eyes locked onto mine. “Have you?”
He really does have nice eyes.
“No.”
He nods and puts the car in reverse, checking his backup camera. My heart is still racing over this unexpected development in my day.
“Are you sick? Do you need help breaking the news to Carter and Suki?”
He exhales through his nose, his lips turning up slightly in a smile. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Is someone suing you? Because I’m not the right kind of attorney for a sexual harassment case, but I can ask around.”
Pinching his brows together, he glances over at me. “Jesus, Mara. No. No one’s suing me for sexual harassment.”
The car is silent for a couple very long minutes. Silence makes me uncomfortable, so I find a way to fill it.
