Page 98 of Men or Paws
“Do you mean Santo Domingo Grill?” Rocco asked.
I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture if you wanted to try to turn a bad memory into a good one, but my ex-manager still works there and he’s the last person I would want to see.”
“I totally understand,” Rocco said. “And no, I wasn’t planning on taking you there. We’re not going to a restaurant, actually.”
I blinked a couple of times, thinking about it. “No food truck and no restaurant . . . Okay, you’re scaring me. That pretty much leaves dumpster diving, a vending machine, or food-sample hopping at Costco. None of those are very romantic.”
“Romantic?” Rocco arched an eyebrow. “Wait—are you considering our adventure today as an actual date?” A slow smile lit his face.
“Maybe.” I smiled. “Make it good, and make it quick. I tend to get homicidal when I’m hungry.” I pressed the key fob to the Maserati into the palm of his hand. “You can drive now.”
Rocco nodded, looking more enthusiastic than ever since I mentioned it was quite possibly a date. He clicked a button on the key fob and the doors made their way up.
I got into the car and pulled at the seatbelt.
Stretching it across my body, I paused for a moment when a brilliant idea popped into my head, one that I was sure would get Rocco to kiss me right then and there.
“Uh-oh,” I said after forcefully and purposely clicking my seatbelt into place over the bottom of my blouse.
“What?” Rocco said.
I frowned and glanced down at my seatbelt. “I don’t know how I did it but my seatbelt is stuck on my blouse.”
“No problem.” Rocco bent down inside the car and placed a hand on each side of my legs on the seat, then leaned across my body toward the seatbelt, grazing his cheek against my cheek in the process.
A zing of electricity shot through my body.
Please do that again.
I stared at the side of his neck, just inches from my mouth, knowing exactly what must have been going through Dracula’s mind before he sank his teeth into his victim.
Clearly, I hadn’t considered the possibility of my plan backfiring on me.
“What the heck did you do here?” Rocco said, his head down, focused on trying to undo the seatbelt. “I don’t understand how the bottom of your blouse got stuck.”
“I don’t either,” I lied, wondering if his neck was as tasty as it smelled.
Rocco tried to pull the seatbelt free and elbowed me right in the boob.
“Hey!” I said. “What is it with you and my boobs today?”
“Sorry, the car must have hit another bump,” Rocco said, laughing. He tried again, this time bumping his shoulder into my chin. “Sorry again. Hang on, I think I figured out how to get your blouse loose.”
My plan wasn’t working at all to get him to kiss me.
I needed something better and I needed it in a hurry before he got my blouse loose.
What would drive Rocco crazy?
Think, think, think.
Come on, think!
The answer popped into my head and it was genius.
I placed the palms of my hands on his shirt right over his ten-pack abs. “There we go. That should keep you from falling into me again.”
Rocco moaned. “You’re killing me.”
