“You had a puppy.” I cock my hip. “Couldn’t be that dangerous.”
“That mean you’ve agreed to let me drive you home?”
Drive me home?Why does that conjure up images of him taking me home—to his place—to do dirty, wonderful things. Jeez. I need a cold shower. Or my head examined. I will not be sleeping with Jude Lawrence . . . or anyone. Doesn’t matter that he’s completely saved me today. I’m a strong woman. I can resist the charms of a well-dressed, successful, charming man. I just need a ride.Yeah, I do.Home.Damn it.A ride home. That’s all. I avoid eye contact, and respond with a grunt that I hope sounds moreyesthan themy panties might catch fire if I keep looking at youthoughts circling my mind.
7
Jude
“I’m almost done.” She glances at the studio door, and I wish I could read her mind. Despite her earlier irritation, she almost appears relieved to see me. That possibility alone makes the time I spent tooling around Burbank after the puppy delivery worth it.
“Great. I’ll make a few calls.”
“Great.” But she doesn’t move. Or meet my gaze.
I lift my brow, taking a few steps closer until she lifts her stare. “You’ll come get me when you’re finished.”
“Okay.” She studies my face as if trying to decipher all my secrets. As though she hasn’t quite decided whether I’m trustworthy. I hate whomever it is that made her cynical. Mostly because they likely hurt her in the process. Probably whatever idiot I overheard her talking to on the phone. I hate that she said I love you before ending the call. He doesn’t deserve her. I don’t know who he is, but he isn’t good enough. Not when he obviously accepted her refusal of help.
Not me, though. I convinced her. Won her trust. Okay, I bribed her with puppies and took the keys to her hunk of rust. That’s gotta count for something.
Her gaze narrows, but her lips soften. I wish I could read her features. Know what she’s thinking right this very second. Like a bright beckoning light calling a ship home, I have an insane desire to earn her trust. She’s a challenge I want to win.
I take a step back, holding her gaze, but unable to stop the grin from spreading across my lips. “Just don’t want you going rogue, trying to ditch your ride or anything.”
She laughs, almost as if she didn’t expect to. “You worried?”
“Yeah.” I take another few steps backward.
“You should be.”
“Just remember. I have your car.”
She gasps, but the smile on her face gives away her amusement. “Are you holding Iron Maiden hostage?”
“Maybe.” I full on grin. I can’t help it. This back and forth is a breath of fresh air.
“I should—” She hikes her thumb at the door.
I point at where I’m parked. “Go. Finish up and come out when you’re done.”
She nods and it’s only after she slips back inside the studio that I head back to my vehicle.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call before I shut the door. It’s Darlene. I’m surprised it’s taken her a few days to get back to me since sending over the progress photos with Chance on Monday. She usually responds within hours.
“Just the woman I wanted to hear from.”
“Jude, save the charming for the ladies who bat for your team.”
“What can I do for you, Darlene? Did you get the photos I sent on Monday?”
“That’s why I’m calling. They look fantastic. God. You know nothing makes me more excited than a Bateman Original.”
“Does your wife know that?”
“Ha! She certainly does. We have three in our home, remember?” There’s a shuffle of papers before she speaks again. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I just got some really exciting news from the developer. Construction is ahead of schedule.”
Ah. She wants the piece sooner. “How much?”
