“Then I guess you leave me no choice.” He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back, then opened the door of the truck. “Get in.”
That was it?
I climbed into the back seat. He circled around to the back to load in my suitcase, then continued up to the front door and got in the front passenger side.
Kiss denied.
I zipped open my purse and got out my phone, pretending not to be bothered that he wasn’t sitting in the back with me.
What game was he playing? I wished I had a copy of the Dalton Deangelo handbook.
I scrolled through my messages and opened the ones from Adrian, who was letting me know his dog was recuperating nicely.
“Oh, good,” I said out loud.
Dalton turned around and looked back from the front seat. “Vern will be here in a few minutes.”
“Okay, that’s good, too. I just found out my boyfriend’s dog is feeling better. We were all out hiking and we had a terrible run-in with a bear.”
“You went hiking?” He had a mischievous look that annoyed me.
“With my boyfriend.”
“He doesn’t mind that you stick your hand down other guys’ pants?”
My head started to bob side to side with its own attitude. “Of course he doesn’t. We have a very modern arrangement. We’re honest with each other, and it’s great.”
“I noticed something, back when we were outside the truck and you were grabbing my dick like it was the last organic turkey at the farmer’s market on the day before Thanksgiving. You aren’t wearing the ring I gave you.”
“I need to get it sized for my finger.”
“I know for a fact the ring will fit perfectly. You haven’t even opened the box, have you?”
“Everything’s in my suitcase, and, by the way, I brought back your sexy lumberjack coat.”
He nodded, taking his green eyes off me for just a moment. When he looked down, he always looked so sad and thoughtful. For an instant, I felt bad about being so hard on him, and lying about the ring.
His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered, then he looked up again, sunny and smiling that million-dollar grin. “Have you been to San Francisco before?”
“Is that the one with all the hills? And the trolley cars?”
“Yes,” he said, clearly amused by my description.
“No, I haven’t been there, then. I think I’d remember something like that.”
“I’ll try my best to make this a memorable weekend for you.”
“Hah! I’m scared to find out what you have planned.”
He nodded slowly. “Trespassing is definitely on the table.”
“No trespassing and no public nudity.”
“Come on, sugarlips. You were spending too many days in a sleepy little bookstore, and then I came along and unlocked your repressed cravings for criminal activity.”
I wagged my finger. “Oh, no, do not look so proud. I was a good girl, and you corrupted me. My mother’s friend went on a cruise and she didn’t even ask me to babysit her cat. People around town look at me funny, and they haven’t even seen my peaches in their magazines yet.”
“You’re a star.”
I took a pause to breathe. Was Dalton giving me a pep talk? I wished he was in the back seat with me, because I would have preferred a hug, or just his arm around me.
He continued, “When you become a star, you burn and burn. That fire touches everyone around you. Fame puts relationships on fast forward, and it shines a light so bright, there’s no shadow for your secrets to hide.”
“Especially when some stupid girl blabs your secrets, for which I am truly sorry.”
“You did me a favor.”
“Good! We don’t have to get fake-married.”
He grinned. “Nice try. You did me a favor, but you may have murdered my career.”
I leaned forward and stuck my fingertip right into his chin dimple. “But what about this dimple? This gorgeous face is going to have an amazing career, no matter what.”
“You were in LA for a few weeks. Didn’t you notice something about every food server and coffee barista you ran across?”
I kept poking him in the dimple. “Shut up. You’re Dalton Deangelo. Those sexy waiters and bus boys can’t hold a candle to you.”
He gazed into my eyes. “Marry me.”
I giggled in response, because Dalton was basically a mutant superhero, and his power was projecting stupidity from his eyes, straight into my brain.
He pulled away from my dimple-poking finger and neighed like a horse, which just made me laugh harder.
In a silly voice, he said, “I’m Lionheart! Nee-hee-hee-hee! I’m your favorite horsie ride, Peaches, so you should marry me.”