The Designated Drivers' Club
“Jenny said when they stopped at the tire store. Her car sat out front, waiting. He grinned.
She backhanded his arm. “Not that! I meant coming and getting me. Helping me with the car. It was nice.”
“Nice,” he mocked. “Right up there with cute. Not what a guy wants to be called by a woman he’s just burned the sheets with.”
She raised a finger. “Stop. Can we just not talk about that, okay? It’s bad enough I had to call you for help. I’m probably not going to live it down. You don’t hav...e to rub it in that I — ” I attacked you. I was half-asleep.
“You yell out ‘Holy. Lightning. Hell’ in the heat of the moment?” Grant teased. “I like it. I like it a lot. In fact, I think I’m going to start saying that all the time now. I like it so much.” He yanked on her hair.
“I don’t usually do that.”
“No kidding? Then I like it even more.”MoreLess
She backhanded his arm. “Not that! I meant coming and getting me. Helping me with the car. It was nice.”
“Nice,” he mocked. “Right up there with cute. Not what a guy wants to be called by a woman he’s just burned the sheets with.”
She raised a finger. “Stop. Can we just not talk about that, okay? It’s bad enough I had to call you for help. I’m probably not going to live it down. You don’t hav...e to rub it in that I — ” I attacked you. I was half-asleep.
“You yell out ‘Holy. Lightning. Hell’ in the heat of the moment?” Grant teased. “I like it. I like it a lot. In fact, I think I’m going to start saying that all the time now. I like it so much.” He yanked on her hair.
“I don’t usually do that.”
“No kidding? Then I like it even more.”MoreLess
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