“The last time I had a chance was when L.D. and I went to some fancy do on Long Island.” She checked her mirror and, unable to resist, shot into the next lane. “One trip with me and he insisted on taking his car and driver every damn place.” She sent Alex a smile, then sobered instantly when she saw his expression. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing him up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
No, he hadn’t said anything, she admitted. A man didn’t have to say a word when his eyes could go that cold. Her hands tightened on the wheel. Now she stared straight ahead.
“He was a friend, Alexi. That’s all he ever was. I didn’t...” She took a long, careful breath. “I never slept with him.”
“I didn’t ask one way or the other,” he said coolly.
“Maybe you should. One minute you want to know all there is about me, and the next you don’t. I think—”
“I think you’re driving too fast again.” He reached over and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “And you should relax. Okay?”
“Okay.” But her fingers remained tight on the wheel. “I’d like—sometime—for us to talk about it.”
“Sometime.” Damn it, didn’t she realize he didn’t want to talk about the other men who’d been part of her life? He didn’t want to think about them. Especially now, now that he was in love, and he knew what it was like to be with her.
He knew the sound of that little sigh she made when she turned toward him in the night. The way her eyes stayed unfocused and heavy, long after she awakened in the morning. He knew she liked her showers too hot and too long. And that she smelled so good because she rubbed some fragrant cream all over before she’d even dried off.
She was always losing things. An earring, a scribbled note, money. She never counted her change, and she always overtipped.
He knew those things, was coming to treasure them. Why should he talk about other men who had come to know them?
“Turn here.”
“Hmm?”
“I said turn...” He trailed off with a huff of breath as she breezed by the exit. “Okay, take the next one, and we’ll double back.”
“The next what?”
“Turn, McNee.” He reached over and gave her hair a quick tug. “Take the next turn, which means you have to get over in the right lane.”
“Oh.” She did, punching the gas and handily cutting off another car. At the rude blast of its horn, she only lifted a hand and waved.
“He wasn’t being friendly,” Alex pointed out—after he took his hands from in front of his eyes.
“I know. But that’s no reason for me to be rude, too.”
“Some people consider cutting off another driver rude.”
“No. That’s an adventure.”
Somehow they made it without mishap. But the moment she’d squeezed into a parking place two doors down from his parents’ row house, he held out his hand. “Keys.”
Sulking, she jingled them in her hand. “I didn’t get a ticket.”
“Probably because there wasn’t a traffic cop brave enough to pull you over. Let’s have them, McNee. I’ve had enough adventure for one day.”
“You just want to drive.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It’s a man thing.”
“It’s a survival thing.” He plucked them from her hand. “I just want to live.” Not that he was going to object to handling the natty little Mercedes. But he decided against bringing that up as they climbed out of opposite doors.
“Pretty neighborhood,” she commented, taking in the trees and freshly painted house trim and flowering plants, the scatter of kids riding over the uneven sidewalk on bikes and skateboards.
