Likely there was something wrong with him. Maybe he snored. Or he didn’t lower the toilet lid. Perhaps he did drugs. Or pimped out women.
Her breath whooshed out of her at the thought.
“Hmm, I’m guessing you’re back to thinking I’m some sort of serial killer,” he drawled.
“What? No!”
He grinned. “You’re the worst liar.”
She bit her lower lip. “Sorry.”
“Would it help if I gave you my mama’s phone number? She’d kick my ass if I didn’t treat a lady right.”
“I . . . I . . . no!” she squeaked out, completely horrified at the idea. Speak to his mother? On what planet would she want to do that?
He threw back his head with a laugh. “That was a joke. My mama and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
Oh, that was sad.
“Okay, darlin’. Here’s my card. Tell me your name and number and I’ll put it in my phone.” He drew his phone out.
Crap. Well. Here goes nothing. She rattled off her details.
“Thea, it suits you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Do you think?” She’d always thought it sounded too pretty to be her name. Too elegant and refined. Everything she wasn’t.
He tapped his finger against her nose. “No bad thoughts about yourself allowed.”
How the heck did he know? She gaped at him. But he didn’t give her an explanation. He was too busy tapping away on his phone. “My buddy will get your car in twenty. You said you needed a ride into work?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll get a friend to pick me up.” A friend . . . an Uber . . . that was close, right?
He watched her suspiciously. But she went back inside her car and brought up the Uber app. It wasn’t a cost she could really afford, but she’d take public transportation home. It would mean taking three different buses and walking for half a mile at night in her shitty neighborhood, but it couldn’t be helped.
When the Uber was booked to arrive in five minutes, she looked at the card.
Carrick Arson.
Cool name. Carrick. He didn’t look like a Carrick. She slipped back out of the car when he got off the phone. Grabbing hold of her bag, she locked up. “What shall I do with the keys?”
“I’ll wait for my friend to get here.”
She frowned slightly. “I don’t want to hold you up.”
He shrugged. “It’s that or leave the keys under the tire, darlin’ and there’s no guarantee even this car will be here when Jack arrives.”
She bristled slightly at the slur to her car. But hell, who was she kidding? It was only the truth. It was a piece of shit.
She sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you works. I mean, if you wanted to say thank you, Carrick, you handsome, gorgeous, sexy man, I wouldn’t say no.”
She grinned. “Thank you.”
He held a hand to his chest. “Wounded.”
A giggle escaped, surprising her. Laughter wasn’t something that really existed in her world. Something inside her softened. This big, gorgeous, funny man had managed to make her laugh.