I lifted my chin. "Well the timing can't be a coincidence."
With a low scoff, he said, "In case you didn't notice, I could've fucked you in the car."
I sucked in a breath. "What?"
"Shit." His eyes filled with regret. "I shouldn't have said that."
I forced a smile. "Why not? We're being honest, right?"
"Listen…" He shoved a hand through his hair. "Let's start over, okay?"
"From when?" I tried to think. "The beginning of the book tour?"
"No." His voice softened. "The beginning of dinner."
Dinner. The food had been delicious, and the company had been amazing.
Until now.
Now I was wishing that I hadn't eaten a thing, because it suddenly wasn't sitting so great. I pushed back my chair and stood. "Forget it. Dinner's over."
And with that, I turned and marched out of the restaurant, refusing to look back.
Chapter 45
Jack
Fuck.
Noble intentions.Of those, I had plenty. But making them work? It wasn't so easy.
I yanked out my wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. I tossed it onto the table and headed for the door, only to be stopped mid-way by our server, who wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong.
Something was wrong all right.But it had nothing to do with the food or the service. Trying not to be a dick about it, I assured her that everything had been great and kept on going.
Still, the delay had cost me.
By the time I caught up with Becka, she was halfway to the car. I strode up behind her and said, "Becka, wait."
When she didn't stop, I moved forward and reached for her elbow.
Without turning back, she yanked free of my grip and kept going. Short of tackling her in the parking lot, there wasn't much I could do, except hit the keyless entry to make sure she had someplace to go.
She made straight for the car and yanked open the passenger's side door. Wordlessly, she climbed inside, slamming the car door shut behind her.
As for myself, I strode around the opposite side and claimed the driver's seat. By the time I shut the car door behind me, Becka was buckled up and ready to go.
Not so fast.
I turned to her and said, "You're not getting what I'm saying."
"Sure I am."
"No. You're not." Deliberately I softened my tone. "My fault, not yours."
"Sure, whatever." She pointed to the steering wheel. "So, are we swinging by the hotel?" Her mouth tightened. "Or, are you just taking me straight to the airport?"
I could.It would be easy enough. The jet was fueled and ready. But I didn't want her to go, not like this.
