“You know, you’re not anything like I really imagined you were.” “Is that a compliment?” “I suppose it might be.” Her lips twisted like she didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t stop from chuckling. Why did this woman dislike me? Instead of it turning me off, I was curious. “Okay, then, how about this. You take care of my truck, I’ll do your favor, and then tonight, you let me take you out for dinner.” “You don’t even know what the favor is.” “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still do it, and I still want you across the table from me so I can keep proving how much of a non-asshole I am.” “You’re sort of pushy, you know that?” “I prefer ‘determined’ when I see something I want.” I flicked my hand out. “What’s the favor?” “She glanced toward the door to the garage and sighed again. “My dad’s a fan—” “Just your dad?” I teased. She huffed, lips pressed into a pout and continued, ignoring me. “It’s just, I was wondering, it doesn’t have to be much, nothing big at all…but could you autograph—” “Done.” We had boatloads of crap in the marketing department I could grab. I’d take care of it and blow her mind with my generosity. And it wasn’t just because I tried to do everything I could for fans, but because she was pretty when she blushed. Even prettier as her eyes went soft when she mentioned her dad. Spectacular as she gritted out her favor like asking for something from someone was worse than getting teeth pulled without Novocain. “Yeah?” she asked. “That’d be really great. But dinner, I don’t know.” The pretty little liar. Her blush told me she wanted it. “Tonight, whenever. You make the call, and it’s not payback for the favor or you fixing my truck. I just want to share a meal with you.” “Why? Because you want in my pants?” Her tone was snippy and her shoulders tightened. She’d handed me a loaded gun and hell if I was going to shoot myself with it. I closed the five feet of space between us, making her step backward until she was almost plastered to my truck. “I do want in your pants, Paige. Any American male who watches you for longer than two seconds probably wants the same. And I’ll take my time getting there if I have to, so I’m not going to be a dick and lie, and I’m not being a dick by being honest. I’m just honest. But dinner is because you’re pretty, and for some reason I can’t explain, I want to know why you look so damn exhausted, why you just asking me for help made you look like you want to puke, and why you did it anyway. So basically, I just want to talk to you. Get to know you. I’m interested and I’m not going to hide that either. It’s not my style.” “Wow.” Her cheeks had turned pink while I was talking and by the time I was done, her lips were parted. “That’s a lot to discuss at dinner.” “Then we’ll tack on drinks and dessert at the end.”