Run To You

super secret spy and undercover gynecologist?”
    “My face was closer to your muffin than your gynecologist.” Again he glanced at her. “I would have noticed.”
    “You checked me out?”
    “Of course. A guy can’t be too careful what he puts in his mouth.”
    He was right. He wasn’t romantic and it was time to turn this verbal train around. “Did a woman break your heart? Is that why you’re on the bench?”
    “No.”
    That was it? Just a no? What would make a man swear off women? A good-looking man like Sergeant Beau Junger. “Are you having a mid-life crisis?”
    “No.” He frowned and reached for a bottle of water in the cup holder. He steered the SUV with one forearm as he unscrewed the cap. “I have a few more years before I hit mid-life .”
    She thought of her old boyfriend who’d stolen her Banana Republic coat. “Are you having a bisexual crisis?”
    He choked a little on his water. “What?” He looked at her and wiped a few drops from his chin. “No. I’m not having any sort of crisis, Jesus.” He turned his attention to the road and shoved the bottle back into the holder. This time he added, “Can’t a man sit on the bench for a while without having a crisis? Can’t I just want sex to mean something with a woman I care about first , for a fucking change?”
    “Oh.” She felt a stab in her chest, and she sharply turned her face away. “Oh wow.”
    “Shit. That came out wrong.”
    She didn’t think so, and she didn’t know which hurt worse. That he didn’t care about her or that what they’d done last night meant nothing. Not that it did mean anything. Or must. Or . . . or should. But somehow it felt like it did. At least for her. “Sorry I forced you to fool around.”
    “You’re not big enough to force me into doing anything.” In a surprising move, he reached across the SUV and took her hand in his. The heat from his palm tingled the inside of her wrist and elbow. “I didn’t do anything last night I haven’t been thinking about doing since I first saw you in those little leather shorts last week.”
    She glanced across her shoulder at him and tried not to let his simple touch affect her and make her think of where he’d touched her last night. “I thought you didn’t like me when we first met.”
    “I thought you were annoying. I didn’t know you well enough to dislike you.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I liked your tight ass in those shorts, though. Tried not to stare at it when we were leaving Ricky’s parking lot.”
    “You stared at my behind while I was freaked out about Ricky?”
    “Sure.”
    “Even though I annoyed you?”
    “Of course. One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.”
    Yes it did. That was just stupid. She couldn’t imagine looking at a man she found super annoying and seeing anything attractive about any part of . . . Wait. Yes she could. She was looking at him now.
    “You’re beautiful, Stella Leon, and I broke my own rules with you.”
    “Rules? There’s more than one?”
    He let go of her hand and held up one finger. “Don’t have sex until you’re married or at least headed in that direction.” He held up another finger. “Never get involved with a buddy’s sister, wife, or girlfriend.” And one last. “Don’t mix business and pleasure. I broke all three with you.”
    “I’m not a buddy’s sister, wife, or girlfriend,” she pointed out.
    “When Vince marries Sadie, you’ll be his sister.”
    Technically, she supposed. “So, should I be sorry I ‘woke the beast’?”
    “Are you?”
    “Are you?”
    He glanced at her. “No.”
    She tried not to smile and failed. “No.”
    “So, I’m business and pleasure?” She put her empty cup in the holder next to his. “Am I busin-sure?” She kind of liked that. “Or pleas-ness?” She liked that better. More romantic.
    He glanced at her. “Boots, you’re head goat in a classic goat rodeo.”
    She gasped and pointed at herself. “I’m a goat?”
    “You’re the head goat.” He laughed like that was funny. “A cute head goat. How is that?”
    “I don’t want to be a goat at all.” Her cousin had raised goats. They butted people with their horns and pooped a lot. They weren’t all that cute. “What kind of goat are you?”
    “I’m the goat herder.”
    She opened her mouth to argue but his phone rang and ended the conversation. He didn’t say hello, just hit talk and said, “Hey maggot.” Then he laughed. Stella supposed that if it