“No, why?”
“No reason.” Except my cock strained so hard against the zipper I knew I’d be sporting those teeth as imprints for at least a week.
“Come on in if you’re staying and lock the door.”
“Is that an invite?” I bit back a smile because even though Minx was a hard-ass and short with most people, I could tell she liked me. Even if she didn’t want to.
“Do you need one?” she asked, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips.
“No.” Letting me in was as close to an invitation as I would likely get, and I understood that.
“Well then,” she answered and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to kick off my boots and follow after her. “I hope one of those meals is fried chicken,” she warned as she gathered dishes and silverware. “If not, you get water.”
“I brought my own drink,” I told her with a smirk as I showed off my bottle of Jameson.
“Not if one of these isn’t friend chicken, you didn’t.” Arms crossed she dared me, and I was so tempted to unscrew the cap and take a long swig. Instead, I pulled the Styrofoam containers from the plastic bag and flipped them open at the same time.
“Fried fish and chicken. I figured we could split it.”
Minx cocked an eyebrow, lips pursed together in an effort not to smile. But she wanted to, I could tell. She liked control of her world, and I was messing that up. “In that case, you can have ice water.”
I laughed at her tough words as she pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and opened them before handing one to me. “Thanks for dinner. I couldn’t imagine cooking in this dreadful heat.”
“You could have had food delivered.”
She frowned. “I don’t do that.”
I could feel the frown form on my face and I tried to get rid of it, but she’d already seen it and gave me one in return. “You don’t have food delivered. Why?”
“I don’t like strangers showing up at my door.” She said it with such a blank expression I knew I had to be missing something.
Obviously that didn’t include me because she’d let me in, and I couldn’t deny the small measure of pride I felt at that knowledge. “Smart for a woman living alone, even a tough one. I’m guessing there’s a reason you aren’t going to share with me behind that rule?”
Big brown eyes assessed me for a long, uncomfortable moment. She had a way with those vulnerable liquid brown eyes that made me feel like a hero returning from battle and a speck of dirt on her shoe at the same time. I wondered which she leaned toward now. “Not that I’m not appreciative, but what brings you by?”
I guess we’re changing the subject. “Some shit went down earlier, and I wanted to see a friendly face.”
“Yet you chose my face instead?”
“Aw, Minx,” I joked with a charming smile, “you’re mostly friendly. When you want to be. Besides, I like looking at your face.” The blush that flooded her cheeks took me by surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw any woman blush, never mind one as tough as Minx. But the more I knew her the more I glimpsed someone softer. Vulnerable.
She looked up and her gaze slammed right into mine. “Right back atcha, Cash.”
I knew she was uncomfortable so I leaned forward and batted my eyelashes, making her life. “Why thank you, Minx. A man does love to hear how irresistible a beautiful woman finds him.”
Her lips twitched, but I was learning to realize that Minx came by her seriousness honestly. “Why did you need to see a friendly face?”
She switched topics at speeds fast enough to give a man whiplash. “Club shit,” was all I answered, expecting her to ask a thousand questions I couldn’t answer. Instead, she nodded and took a long pull from the water-coated beer bottle.
“Are you okay?”
“Pissed off and shaken up, but good food and good company helps.”
Minx raised her bottle to me with a grin before taking another sip and drawing my gaze to those naturally plump lips that gave me an instant hard on. Abruptly, she stood and began clearing the table in silence. She didn’t look upset or angry, but I guessed that was my cue to leave. I was about to stand when she turned with two shot glasses and a smile. “Making things fuzzy tends to help, at least in my experience.” Then she sauntered off into another room, leaving me to follow her.
Again. She never failed to surprise me. As tough and badass as she appeared, she blushed easily and had a soft spot she hid from the world. “Thank you.”
She nodded and held up her shot glass, both shaped and colored like avocados. I filled them both, and she tapped the edges with a grin and knocked it back while I did the same. We repeated those motions like an old married couple two more times before she finally spoke. “I’m not what you think I am.”