Page 10 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

He gave her a pointed look. “I have an entire feline in the car because of you. One who I will have to clothe and feed and water until the end of his natural born life or mine, whoever goes first, so…”

“He’s not going to need to be clothed,” she groused. “In fact, I think he’d murder you in your sleep if you tried to put him in a sweater.”

“Either way, you don’t get to be mad at me for being curious.” He eyed her screen. “A financial planner? Likes boating? This guy sounds like a tool, Eli.”

Eli.Apparently, their little joke about names was going to stick, but this time the nickname hit her in a way that made her stomach flip a little. They’d stumbled into new territory. Coworkers who rarely spoke didn’t have nicknames for each other. And they certainly didn’t feel comfortable enough to comment on each other’s dating choices. But Beckham seemed to be one of those people who once you were past his very high gates and armed guard tower, you were in. A friend. No pretense or games. Even though she was about to throttle him for looking at her phone, she found she didn’t mind the shift. “I’m about to pull over and drop you on the side of the road, just so you know.”

He chuckled, completely unrepentant. “Ten bucks says that this boat he’s posing on is definitely not his.”

Blessedly, the parking garage for WorkAround came into view. She pulled in and parked, turning her body toward him. “Are you done now?”

He smiled at her and held up a pic of Ryan like it was Exhibit A in a court trial. “This dog he’s cuddling with? Clearly bait.” He turned back to the phone, leaning in close to it. “Blink twice, Fluffy. Are you okay? Does the bad man lock you in the basement when he’s not taking dating profile photos with you?”

Eliza groaned and grabbed the phone from him. “You’re the worst.”

He was grinning as he let her retrieve her phone. “Come on. Do you really want to betoastedby some dude posing on a boat?”

“I have nothing against boats,” she said, her cheeks burning. “And I’m sure if I looked at your dating-app inbox, it’d be full of women with pouty lips and low-cut shirts who claim they’re always up for an adventure.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t do dating apps.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. Because you’re twenty-nothing, look like that, and probably have girls sign up on a list outside your door just for the chance to lick your tattoos.”

His brows jumped up.

Every part of her cringed at her outburst.Aaaand I’ll see myself out so I can go die of embarrassment somewhere else.

“I look like how now?” he asked, his mouth kicking up at one corner, a dimple appearing. “Are you telling me I’m pretty, Eli?”

“Shut up.”Real mature, Eliza.

“And I’m twenty-five for the record,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’d say that’s more twentysomething than twenty-nothing.”

“Wow. Ancient.” Eliza took a breath, trying to regain some shred of her dignity. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t judge someone for being on a dating app. Meeting people might not be as easy for some as it is for others.”

“I’m not judging you,” he said, those blue-green eyes locked on her. “I just think you’re setting yourself up for a bunch of nonsense. Those apps are advertising campaigns. Smoke and mirrors. Like the rest of social media. I guarantee you ninety percent of those guys on that app are lying about something and mainly just want to get laid.”

“And what if I’m just trying to get laid?” she shot back.

He was unfazed. “Are you?”

Trent meowed, like yes, he would indeed like some feline loving if they were inquiring.

She stared at Beckham, chin tipped up, ready for a fight, but then her shoulders sagged. For some reason, she found she didn’t have the energy or desire to lie to him. Maybeheshould’ve been a therapist. Or maybe all the emotion of the day had shorted out her normal filters. She was dumping all her truths on him today. “No. I’ve already been down that road. I’m looking for more than that.”

He shrugged and looked away. “Well, then I think you’re wasting your time with this stuff.”

She unhooked her seat belt and climbed out of the car, irritated and feeling some other emotion she couldn’t pinpoint. She lifted Trent’s carrier and the bag of supplies from the back seat and then walked around the car to hand them to Beckham. “Duly noted. But until you’re a thirty-two-year-old woman who would like to, one day, have a partner and a family and not have to celebrate Christmas alone, you don’t get to have an opinion on my dating life. Maybe a financial planner with a boat and dog is exactly what I want.”

He took the carrier and bag from her, frowning, his gaze going stormy. “You’re right. None of my business.”

“Nope.”

He stared at her for a moment and then leaned down.

Her heart jumped right into her throat because he looked like he was coming in to kiss her, but before he reached her mouth, he shifted over and pecked her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Eli.” He straightened and that devil-may-care look returned. “I hope by next Christmas you’ve found what you’re looking for and don’t need to resort to kidnapping coworkers and forcing vicious cats upon them to keep the day interesting.”

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