Party Girl

“You heard me. See, I don’t mind the teasing part—hell, that’s the spice that makes my blood sing. But the retreat thing is either cowardice or manipulation, and both of those are a total buzzkill for me. If you’re a coward, you’ll never keep up with me, and if you’re a manipulator, that makes you radioactive. So if you’re either of those things, tell me now, and I guarantee you’ll never hear from me again.”

“I’m neither of those things,” she shot back, so offended he’d think that of her that she didn’t even consider taking the off-ramp he’d provided. “But if you’re into guarantees I’ll give you one of my own—I can guarantee that even though you are definitely a Lucifer-level hottie, I don’t care about hearing from you again. We’re strangers. We just happen to be friends with two people who got married. But that's the extent of our history.”

“So let's make some history of our own,” came the unruffled response. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Her heart tripped over itself. Good grief, the Lucifer-level hottie was asking her out. “Tomorrow?”

“I know it's a workday, but I've learned to live my life between the times when I'm not on call.”

“That’s right,” she said, her mouth shooting off once more without her permission. “You’re a doctor, but I don’t know what kind. For all I know you’re a Doctor of Philosophy. Which, by the way, is perfectly awesome.”

“I’m pretty sure doctors of philosophy are never on call, but ER docs specializing in trauma wounds are,” he drawled, his tone desert-dry. “I started out wanting to specialize in eldercare, but then I went to Afghanistan. War has a way of changing a man’s focus.”

“I know you and Talon were in the same unit,” she said, her tone softening. The man was a decorated war hero, after all. “You were awarded the Bronze Star for valor, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, and is this you showing interest in me? Because I’m liking that a lot.”

In a heartbeat, she felt her defenses slam up. “What can I say, I’m used to interviewing interesting people, and you just happen to be interesting. It’s what I do.”

“I’m definitely learning about what you do. For instance, I’ve been watching a lot of your videos recently, and I’ve gotta admit you’re pretty good.”

She could barely find her voice. “You’ve... been watching my channel?”

“Yeah. In fact, earlier today I watched a Raven’s Haven review you did on Thai restaurants, and it whetted my appetite in the worst way. What about hitting All Thai’d Up around seven?”

“Lily’s Pad Thai is a better bet,” she said automatically, still reeling from the fact that he’d spent his precious downtime watching her video channel. What the hell did that even mean? “Bigger menu, amazing wait staff and a larger seating capacity, so you have a better chance of getting a table without a long wait.”

“Great, it’s a date. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

“Wait,” she yelped, so freaked she actually held a hand up, palm out, as if he could see her. “I didn’t say I’d go out with you.”

“You kind of did when you said you liked Lily’s better. Or was that another tease-and-retreat thing?”

Goddamn it. “I can’t do it tomorrow night. I work at the paper until six, and then I have a livestream with a basketball player who’s launching a new clothing line. I have no idea when that’ll wrap up.”

“You have to eat sometime.”

“True, but it’s almost never at the conventional times, mainly because I don’t lead a conventional life.”

“No shit,” came the drawling response. “But I’m not going to let your schedule get in my way of making sure you’re taken care of.”

She went still. “What does that mean?”

“It means that in addition to your phone number, I also have your address. Not to freak you out or anything, but if I feel you’re starving yourself because your workload is so batshit crazy, I’m going to take matters into my own hands and show up on your doorstep with food and feed you by hand. I didn’t take care of you that night just to watch you throw it all away by working yourself into an early grave.”

The image of Dalton handfeeding her was suddenly all she could see. “Who says I’d answer the door for you?”

“So, you’re saying you’d hide from me? Because I thought you claimed you weren’t a coward.”

Ugh, this man... “I’m not free tomorrow night, but I am the night after. Are you?”

“For you? Always.”

Again she had to stifle a shiver. It was insane, how just a handful of words from him could touch her like a physical caress. “Then if you know my address, I guess I’ll see you Thursday night.”

“If not sooner,” came the baffling response.