“You’re bossy in the morning,” she told him as she held the glass between her legs and put on her seatbelt.
He backed up and onto the street. “I’m bossy all the time.”
“That’s not a good thing,” she informed him. “You shouldn’t be so bossy. Some people might find it rude.”
“Glad to see that zombie Maya is gone. Eat.”
He was impossible.
She noticed that her car was sitting on the side of the road. Someone must have driven it back last night.
“When did my car get there?”
“Last night. Your keys are on your bench.”
Huh.
She glanced down at the chia pudding.
You’re going to have to try it.
He might get insulted otherwise. And he did take the time to make it. That was nice. And Maya wasn’t really used to people being nice to her.
But there was something she needed to know first.
“Um, so, Captain . . .”
“Yes?” he questioned.
“Is he . . . um . . . is he . . . all right?”
“All right?”
Sheesh. He really wasn’t making this easy on her, was he?
“He doesn’t talk!”
“Hmm. He doesn’t say much, no.”
“He didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t really talk to me when you first met me,” he told you. “You still don’t when you’re zombie Maya.”
She wasn’t zombie Maya! Although that was probably better than the truth. She didn’t want to tell him that she couldn’t talk to him sometimes because he was so freaking hot that he fried her brain.
“I talk. More than Captain. He grunts!”
“Yeah, he’s a grunter. I’m not sure I’ve actually heard him talk if I’m honest, but I haven’t known him long. Ink only hired him a few months ago and I don’t usually work for Callahan Security.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’m more . . . freelance. I met Ink years ago when I was in the French Special Forces. He asked me to come help him out with this job.”
French Special Forces? Wow.
“Oh. Freelance. I get that. Do you live here, though?” See? She could totally talk more than Captain.
Pfft. She wasn’t a grunter.
