The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles 1)

Seb smiled. “Did it work?”

“Yep. Annie and I were together till we moved to LA. We should have broken up before then, but at twenty-five, I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Ah, let me guess…you followed her here to win her heart.”

I shook my head. “Wrong.”

“Are you still friends?”

“Why do you care?” I retorted testily.

“Just curious.” Seb shrugged.

I studied him, noting the interesting contrast between his intense stare and his relaxed posture. He practically melted into my faded and hopelessly stained beige upholstery like he was in the first-class section on a transatlantic flight, patiently waiting for a flight attendant to bring him his customary flute of champagne. Slick and cool at the same time. But that look demanded answers.

Or better yet, material he could use for marketing purposes.

Too bad. The well was dry here. I had nothing left to offer—except the truth, which was kind of boring.

“No, we’re not friends. Annie’s married and has two kids with her stockbroker husband. She lives in a gated community in Orange County and only ventures to LA for an occasional theater fix. Or to catch an international flight. Our lives are extreme opposites. Somewhere under the designer bags, one-of-a-kind organic baby clothes, and the exclusive island getaways is the bohemian girl I used to know. I see glimpses in her smile…when she forgets she’s a wife and a mom and remembers the days she didn’t answer to anyone. When she remembers what it was like to be free.”

Seb cocked his head, letting the silence grow until I inched forward in line.

“You made that up, didn’t you?”

“Hell, yes. Part of it, anyway. I have no interest in an ex I have zero respect for. I’m not a masochist or a romantic idiot.” I snorted at his irritated scowl, inclining my chin meaningfully when it was our turn to order. “What d’ya want?”

“Same as you, but hold the onions, please.”

“You got it.”

Ten minutes later, we were on the road again. I handed Seb his change before fishing through the to-go bag propped between his seat and the center console. I unwrapped my burger and glanced over at my companion, stabbing a straw through the plastic top on his milkshake. His precision and boyish enthusiasm were endearing—not an adjective I associated with Seb Rourke.

I frowned at the renegade thought.

Seb unwrapped his burger and froze when he noticed my stare. “I’m guessing you don’t mind if we eat in your car?”

“We both know that’s a rhetorical question. Go for it.”

“Nothing worse than a cold burger,” he declared, chomping into his with a blissed-out hum that went straight to my dick.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“I can think of a coupla things,” I replied, stopping at a red light.

“Such as?”

“Finding a scorpion in your shoe, accidentally mixing up salt and sugar in a cookie recipe, moaning the wrong name in a moment of passion. I could go on.” I bit into my burger and let out my own orgasmic sigh of appreciation. Damn, this was good. And yeah, his eyes were definitely locked on my mouth.

That was okay. Mine were all over him too.

There was something about a well-dressed silver fox munching a burger and slurping a shake that kinda turned me on. I wouldn’t admit it, though. Seb was a very handsome dude, but he was so far above my pay grade, I wouldn’t dare flirt with him…not seriously anyway. Clandestinely admiring his strong features and full lips, however, was permissible.

“Has that ever happened to you?”

“No on the scorpion…thank fuck. Yes on the salt mix-up and the sexy faux pas. Neither went over well.”

Seb burst into laughter. “I can imagine. Hard to walk away unscathed from salty cookies or angry lovers in the heat of the moment.”

“True. The cookies went directly into the trash.”

“And the lover?”

I wrinkled my nose at the memory.

“Well, that was trickier. I mistakenly thought I’d gotten away with it when he didn’t say anything. But after round two the next morning, he told me to fuck off and delete his number.” I took another bite and spoke around a mouthful of burger. “What about you?”

“Uh…yeah.” He furrowed his brow as he reached for a fry. “He? You’re bi?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

I made sure he saw my eye roll before I put my foot on the gas when the light turned green. “My sexuality has nothing to do with my acting ability. It’s irrelevant information.”

“Sure, but—”

“And if I told you I was bi after you mentioned your ex-boyfriend, there’s a chance you’d think I was trying to make a move on you.”

Seb sputtered. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“Right. Well, off the record, I think you’re hot, but this is a professional meeting.” I slurped my milkshake…as professionals do, then shoved it into my cupholder. “It’s like you said earlier, ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’ ”