“I sincerely doubt I’ll be sorry,” he told her, studying her lips, wishing his mouth was on hers right now, teeth sinking into her tender flesh.
As they pushed through the doors and into the parking lot, Shawn stopping to lock the building behind them, she yanked her hand away from his and shook her head as she inserted the key into the lock on the glass door. “Let’s get one thing clear, Rhett. I may have been in the club the other night, but I am not submissive. It’s just not my nature.” She straightened and turned to face him, eyes slightly narrowed. “I am used to being a girl in a man’s world, and if anything, I’m aggressive, not the other way around. So don’t think that I’m the type of chick to lick your boots, because I won’t do it.”
“Who said anything about bootlicking? There is humiliation and then there is submission. They’re two different things.” Rhett actually suspected a woman like Shawn might enjoy not having to be a woman in a man’s world for a change. But he didn’t know that any more than she did, apparently. What he did know was that he was curious enough to explore the possibility, and clearly she was, too, or she wouldn’t have bothered to mention it. She would have just turned him down flat and had herself a beer at home, solo. “But I thought we were just grabbing a beer and venting about a bad day.”
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. “Oh, really? So that’s all you want? To just sit on a bar stool next to me for an hour and have a Bud? Okay, we can do that.”
“That’s not all I want,” he told her, hands in his front pockets as he watched her tugging the two sides of her coat closed over her chest. “But I don’t want to scare you.” The dark thoughts that were crowding his mind—of tying her up in his bed and cracking the palm of his hand on her bottom until it reddened—were not something you mentioned on a first date. Or a first not-even-date yet.
“I don’t scare easily.” She brushed the tendril of hair the wind had whipped across her face out of the way. “Especially not when it comes to men young enough to be my . . . younger brother.”
Rhett couldn’t help it. He laughed. She looked so indignant and fiery. “I’m sure you don’t scare easily. But if I told you the thoughts I’m having, they might not scare you, but they would definitely sound rude considering the short length of our acquaintance. So let’s just leave it at that for now, okay?”
“Fine. But you’re a terrible flirt,” she told him, brushing past him.
“I can’t disagree with that.” He was. His mother had even picked up on it. He didn’t have the easy charm of his brother Nolan. His thoughts were too intense, his expressions too serious, his manner too straightforward. It unnerved women, and while he wished it didn’t, he had given up on trying to change himself. Forcing himself to smile and joke when he didn’t feel it, just made him look weird, like an escapee from a state psychiatric ward. Like he could potentially kill his dates and eat their organs, and really, that wasn’t the vibe a guy looking to get laid wants to give off. So he’d decided while him in his natural state wasn’t exactly going to charm the ladies, it was better than creeping them the hell out, which was what faking it did.
It was what it was.
She could either take it or leave it.
It seemed Shawn was going to take it. She gave him a brief smile. “Well, I appreciate your honesty.”
“It’s my best asset,” he assured her. It was. Along with something else he wasn’t going to mention.
Shawn’s smile spread into a grin. “Well, an honest man would certainly be a first, but it’s too freezing cold out here to discuss that any further. And because I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you drive. We can go to Milt’s place across the road. Beer is cheaper than water there.”
She was putting a power struggle into play. He wasn’t sure if she was aware exactly of what she was doing, if she knew she was baiting him. But either way, it was making him hard.
Shawn let Rhett take her hand again and lead her to his truck. What the hell was she doing? She was engaging in some kind of verbal sparring with a man she absolutely could not date. Not only was he way too young, he was a driver, her friend’s brother-in-law, and he was the type of guy she didn’t even understand. She had always gone for the big talkers, the loud, friendly, work-a-crowd guys who never met a stranger and could work any angle, whether it was in a boardroom or on the golf course.
Rhett was . . . intense. He didn’t say a lot, and he smiled infrequently, yet somehow she felt like when she was with him, she was his only focus. That his stare could set her on fire, which was frankly annoying. Unnerving. She felt off-kilter with him and that was the last thing in the world she needed to be feeling given that she was about to lose everything.
But maybe that was why it was so easy to let Rhett steal her attention—if she was distracted by him, she didn’t have to contemplate life after Hamby Speedway. Because that reality was something she didn’t even want to consider, yet she had no choice.
Unless she got married.
It was insane.
So really, the last way she should be spending her evening was with a man who made her nervous, yet here she was.
“Sounds like a plan,” he told her, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “This is my truck here.”
Of course he drove a truck. He was essentially comprised of testosterone, so nothing else would be acceptable. But he was also a gentleman. He opened the door for her and helped her into the truck, which while not necessary was certainly helpful, because while she was no shorty, there was some serious air between the ground and the seat.
“At the risk of sounding like your father,” Rhett said as he got in and started up his truck, “you know you really shouldn’t be hanging out in the track offices by yourself in the dark at night. I just walked right in, and if I could do it, anyone could.”
Shawn wasn’t offended by his concern. He had a valid point, and most of the time she was more careful. “I’m not usually there alone. I have a couple of employees who leave at the same time as I do. If I am there alone, I try to keep the door locked, but today my lawyer had just been in to see me so the door was open.”
“Hence the bad day?”
“Oh, yeah.” She fiddled with her seat belt and debated how much she could or should tell Rhett Ford. She was dying to blurt it out to someone—to have them sympathize with how appalling the whole situation was, and maybe let her bounce some ideas off them on how to increase her profits this season. Yet at the same time, she really didn’t think it was a good idea to have more than a couple of people know the reality of the situation. One, because she didn’t want anyone to think less of her grandfather. Two, because she didn’t want anyone to think they could swoop in and try to buy the track from her at a rock-bottom price. Three, because if she decided to fake a marriage, the less who knew the truth, the better.