Wait, what was he saying? Was he trying to boss me around? “I just need to get to my condo.”
“It’s not safe.” He shook his head no, done deal, no arguments accepted.
“It’s probably only a mile away,” I huffed.
“Doesn’t matter how far. You’re not getting there in that car.”
OK, the Neanderthal appeal apparently had its limits. I’d taken care of myself for years now. The only child of a busy single mom, I’d been making myself dinner since I could press start on a microwave. I’d lived on my own for the last seven years in L.A. I didn’t need anyone to tell me what I could or could not do.
“What exactly do you suggest?” I tossed my hands up in frustration. “Can I hop on my Uber app and have a car here in two minutes?” He kept looking at me, flat and stubborn. The man probably hadn’t even ever heard of Uber.
“Listen,” I continued. “I just need to get to the condo where I’m staying. But I don’t have GPS and I wasn’t getting a signal on my phone.” I held it up, suddenly aware that my iPhone was in a pink case sparkling with rhinestones. The kitchy, tongue-in-cheek glam worked in L.A. He looked at it skeptically before returning his attention to me.
“You don’t have GPS in your car?”
“No, I didn’t think I’d need it.”
“You need it.”
“Well, I didn’t know that before!”
“Cell phone service isn’t reliable here. You could get lost.”
“Thanks. A little late for that advice.” My feathers ruffled, I sipped my cider. Part of me felt all tingly, the other part bristled right up. The tingle came from the way this big, handsome man seemed so protective and demanding about my safety. The other half shouted, “I can do this myself!” I wasn’t a little kid. He shouldn’t treat me like one.
But I was lost and had barely made it to the bar. He had a point. I just didn’t like admitting it.
He looked at me, seeming reluctant to say what he was about to next. Resigned, shaking his head as if he overcame his better instincts to do it, he said, “I’ll get you where you need to go.”
I swear, he didn’t say it like a sleazy come-on, but that’s exactly how my body wanted to interpret it. All sorts of flirty, outrageous replies popped to mind. I came dangerously close to batting my eyelashes and bantering back, “Oh, I bet you could get me right where I need it.”
But I didn’t. When had I ever batted my eyelashes? I took lunch meetings. I sealed deals. He might make me feel like a Highland lass in need of a rescue, but I wasn’t that, not by a long shot.
I looked down at the bar, at my cider, my nails. Anywhere but at him. And I breathed, in and out, and forced myself to not say any of the crazy thoughts racing through my head. Because just then where I felt like I needed to go was nowhere near a rented condo all by myself. My pulse pounded with need to go anywhere he was going so long as it was just him and me alone.
“You’ll be safe with me,” he added, deep and husky.
I bit my lip, knowing I was anything but.