I didn't even know what nunchucks were. Reluctantly, I looked toward the glove compartment. Should I open it and find out? Or was I better off not knowing?
Trying to avoid looking clueless, I said, "Why would I need those?"
He was still eyeing the truck. "Protection. What else?"
"Protection from who?"
He glanced briefly in my direction. "Well, from the look on your face. Me."
A flash of heat blazed across my cheeks.Damn it.It was like the guy was some kind of mind-reader or something.
My shoulders slumped. No. That wasn't it. More likely, my thoughts were justthatobvious.
Going for a recovery, I straightened and said, "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're implying."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm not," I insisted. In a funny way, it was almost true. Yeah, my imagination could run wild sometimes, but there was a reason I was sittinghere, and not in the pickup.
True, the painter didn't like me. That much was obvious. But it was also obvious that he'd made a special trip to track me down and offer me the ride that I'd originally requested. And, he'd gone along with that whole boyfriend sham, even though he hardly knew me.
On top of all that, there was one fact I couldn’t deny. When I'd felt the urge to flee, it hadn't beenfromhim. It had beentohim.
If I'd been truly worried that he might harm me, I would've taken my chances with Chester the Shirtless Wonder and his trusty sidekick.
After a long moment, I concluded that I wasn't afraid of the painter at all. It was just that, well, logic dictated that Ishouldbe.
I cleared my throat and turned to give him a better look. "Should I be afraid?"
Slowly, he pulled his gaze from the mirror and turned to face me. In the brightness of the truck's headlights, I saw the hint of a dimple on his left cheek and the remnants of worry lines between his eyes. The contradiction caught me off guard, and I blurted out, "Well? Should I?"
"No." Again, he looked to the mirror. "But you'd be smarter if you were."
"What?"
Abruptly, he turned again to face me. His voice hardened. "You shouldn't've been out here."
Well, that was rich. I felt my gaze narrow. "You know, Iwouldn't'vebeen out here, if onlysomeonehad given me a ride when I asked."
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Refusing to let it go, I demanded, "So why didn't you?"
"I figured you'd call someone."
"Like who?"
He gave something like a shrug. "I dunno. A servant or something."
I stared at him. "A servant?"
"Hey, I saw your house, remember?"
"Oh, trust me.Iremember." My tone grew sarcastic. "But unfortunately, it's Jeeves’ night off."
If he was amused, he didn't show it. "I'm just saying, I figured you had a driver."
I was still staring. What world did this guy think I lived in? I had no driver. I barely had a car.
