She stops and jerks me to a halt since I’m holding her hand. “My car is over there.”
I rub my thumb across her wrist. “I know where your car is. We’re going to take mine. I’ll bring you back in the morning.”
“Dylan.”
“Jenna,” I say right back.
She turns her head to the side. “I can’t ask you to...”
“You’re not asking me. I’m doing it.” I shrug, knowing I should probably sugarcoat it or something. “I’m taking you home. I’m sleeping on your couch and then I’m bringing you back to work tomorrow.”
She stomps her foot, and all it does is make her look even cuter than she already does. I try to hide my smirk. “I may have to go out tomorrow, but I’ll have someone watching you here at the shop.”
“No, Dylan.”
“Yes, Jenna. I just found you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Let me do this my way.”
Her mouth falls open. That’s around the third time that I’ve tried to let her know that something is going on here. She can try to ignore it if she wants, but this, the two of us, it’s happening.
She finally nods, and with her hand still in mine, I start to pull her toward the rental car. Now all I have to do is make it through the night without making a move on her. Surely, I can do that.
7
Jenna
As soon as we got to my apartment, I sat on the couch while Dylan worked. He brought in bags of equipment from the car and instantly went to work. There was a recording device in my bedroom. I don’t know when Dylan looked at the picture I gave him, but almost immediately when he got into the room he was able to find the camera, and I’m assuming it was because of the angle of the picture. The camera is so small, it looks like it was just a random marking on the wall. He deactivated it and put it in his bag. He then went around the rest of the apartment, checking for recording devices. He put new locks on all the windows and installed an alarm system at the door and all the windows. “Uh, is all that necessary?”
He continues to work. “Yeah, anything that’s going to ensure your safety is necessary.”
He moves through the apartment working in a strategic matter. It’s obvious he’s done this before. It makes me wonder if he and the guys do this for a lot of women.
When a knock sounds on the door, he’s out of the guest bedroom where he was working at in the living room in an instant. “I got it.”
I stand up and grab my purse to get my wallet, but before I can even pull the bills out, he’s already shutting the door and carrying it to the kitchen. “I can at least buy your dinner. Especially after everything you’ve done.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, but I pay when you’re with me.”
“Well, thanks for dinner.”
He stops from pulling out the small white containers. “What? That’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not going to argue with me?”
I open the silverware drawer. “Fork? Or do you want to eat with chopsticks?”
“Chopsticks.”
I close the drawer and grab napkins and drinks. “Why would I argue with you? You’re obviously a gentleman. I’m assuming you’re old school.”
He holds my chair out for me. “Old school? Is this your way of saying I’m old but you’re just too nice to come out and say it?”
I side-eye him as I sit down in my seat and he pushes me in. “No, what I’m saying is that chivalry isn’t dead with you.” I gesture to the seat I’m in. “You hold out seats, open doors, hold my hand to cross streets, you buy my dinner. You’re a good guy, Dylan Riggs. Your mom raised you right.”
He pauses, opening containers, and then sits down heavily in his seat across from me. “I’m not a good guy, Jenna. I’ve done things, bad things that I can’t go back and change even if I wanted to. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. And I guess while I’m being upfront about everything, I didn’t have a mom. At least not one that raised me. I went through eleven foster homes before I aged out and found myself in the Army and eventually with your brother’s team.” It sounds as if he’s talking about the weather instead of important things about his life. He puts some of the chicken lo mein on my plate and then some on his own. “And I’m not really old school... I don’t know, maybe I am. I’m not doing those things because they’re habit or anything like that. You make me want to do those things. I want to do them... for you.”