“You did a good job with the auction.”
I shrug. “Because I had to. It was a great cause. But chasing down every last-minute detail to make sure an event goes off without a hitch isn’t what I want to be doing with my life.” For a moment, I wonder how smart it is to say that to someone who has a direct line to my boss’s husband, but I highly doubt he’s going to tattle.
“What do you want to be doing with your life?”
I’m surprised he asks, but then again, he’s been a surprise in every way I can imagine.
I consider his question, and my mind immediately goes to the unfinished piece in Elijah’s shop. That’s not something I’m ready to share with him, so I change the subject.
“This thing itches, and it’s hot.” I adjust the beanie as I lie.
“You’ll live.”
“Are you sure?”
“Considering that’s my job? Yes.”
I frown, but his comment conjures another question in my brain. “How does one actually get into the hit-man line of work? Is there an apprenticeship for that?” Not the smoothest change of subject, but I don’t care.
He’s quiet for long moments, making me wish I could see his face.
“It wasn’t my first choice.”
“Army or marines?”
Although I can’t see his head swivel to stare at me, I can feel it. I had a gut feeling and went with it.
“Why do you say that?”
“Your posture. I can always spot it. I had a crush on an ROTC guy in college. He carried himself like you.”
“What’s his name?” he asks, aiming for a casual tone, no doubt, and almost succeeding.
I choke on a laugh. “Are you really going to hunt him down because his posture gave you away?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“How far that crush went.”
I’m not sure why I like the subtle flare of jealousy, but I do.
“Where’d you go to college?” he asks next.
I pause before answering. “Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to. It’s disingenuous.”
“If you think I know your entire life story, you’re wrong. Ransom didn’t exactly go out of his way to fill me in on all the details about his baby sister—and I haven’t dug that deep.”
Why am I equal parts glad and annoyed at his reply? Did I want him to stalk me? I must be damaged.
“What did he tell you?” I ask to fill the growing silence.
Again, I have to wait for an answer, and I wonder if it’s because he’s navigating traffic or forming a reply. It feels like we’re merging onto the expressway.
“Enough. You’re younger. Went to college and he didn’t. Work for Mount’s woman. You’re off-limits.”
“Off-limits?” My brother isn’t exactly the most protective sibling on the planet, but he definitely scared off his fair share of guys.