“Hockey?” That hadn’t been anything near what she’d expected to hear. “Now you’ve overplayed your hand. I don’t even like hockey.”
“Have you ever been to a hockey game?”
She paused. “Well, no. But I don’t have to see the game to know I wouldn’t like it.”
“Which is why it would be memorable. And how can you possibly know you don’t like something that you haven’t tried?” He shot her a disgruntled look. “My point is, I think we can both agree that, contrary to me, you get a thrill out of the unexpected.” For some reason, it struck her that he said this in an almost admiring tone. “And then I’d probably offer some dessert after,” he added, and she glanced over to see a smirk touch those lips. “At my place.”
She laughed. “I’d just bet you would.” Only, the thought of heading to Cruz’s for some dessert and all that it might involve actually sent a jolt of excitement through her. And a little terror.
In Cruz’s hands, she didn’t know what she might be capable of.
She noticed he was still staring at her and she felt her cheeks warming, almost as if he could read her mind and knew what delicious things she’d envisioned. She cleared her throat. “You definitely seem to have it all down to a science. You hook the girl in, then when she’s positively enamored with you and orders the embroidered towels from Pottery Barn with your names entwined, you cut her loose and move on to the next hapless victim.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Yes, that’s exactly what I do,” he said in a droll tone, turning his attention back to his computer. “And above my headboard are the nicks I’ve made for each conquest.”
“Come on. You’ve almost said as much yourself, and I quote, ‘Things have gotten a little busy at work and I wasn’t able to give her what she was looking for,’ which is code for”—she lifted her hands from the steering wheel a moment and made air quotes—“a serious relationship. You run at the first sign someone wants something more than a casual fling.”
He truly looked perplexed. “Well, of course. I want to be honest with them. My life, my immediate and future plans, they’re wrapped up in Sorensen Construction right now. It’s best to be upfront with the women I date. Becca made it clear she wanted to take things to another level. Something I’m not prepared to give her or anyone at this time in my life.” He said it, however, almost as if he’d never have the time.
“Wow, you sure are a romantic.”
“Just realistic.”
“Have you always been like this? Wasn’t there anyone who you ever wanted something more with?”
“Not since I was seventeen. Seventeen, naive, and hormonally challenged.”
She didn’t know if she felt sympathy for him or wanted to kick him. “How is wanting to spend your life with someone naive?”
“I’ll tell you another time,” he said in that smug way of his. And for a second she imagined some poor moony-eyed teenaged girl handed her heart by Mr. Sensitive. “Just remember we weren’t all born with a silver spoon in our mouths, the world at our feet. Look, I have a conference call I need to make in another hour with Dick Eastman and want to have some figures ready. Can we table our discussion for the time being?”
“Fine. Whatever.” She returned her attention to finding a song on the radio. Why did he have to bring it back around to her and the fact that she came from wealth? They were talking about love here. Or whatever came close to it. The subject was definitely not over.
Because she was curious now as to what happened to the naive seventeen-year-old Cruz Sorensen that had made him the cynic he was now.
Chapter Six
Cruz held the phone up, dread building in his stomach. Where were the service bars? Any bar. Anything to ensure he could make this call. He hadn’t worked his ass off the past few years to culminate in this one deal, only to have it fall apart because he couldn’t make the final phone call.
Ten minutes ago he’d had full service. He should have just had Payton pull over then. But he’d known how important it was to both of them to close the miles between them and that wedding.
“Anything?” she asked him.
He let his silence confirm the fact.
Three minutes passed. He only had two minutes until he was supposed to make that damned phone call.
Then, there it was.
One—no, two bars now. “I’ve got something.” He looked at the road ahead of them. No sign of a road or turn off. “Pull over.”