“No,” she rasped, quickly wiping her eyes and looking away. “I don’t hate you. You annoy the crap out of me, but I’ve never hated you. Do you know what I almost did tonight?”
“What?”
“I saw someone walking their dog and paid them five bucks for the bags of poo – because I was going to throw it on your lawn. I boughtdog pootonight and hit the lowest of lows.”
Drake wasn’t sure if he should laugh – or buy an industrial-strength pressure washer. If his yard was now littered with excrement from some mongrel, he was not gonna be a happy camper. And just as he was about to light into her for it, she let out a tearful sob that stopped him in his tracks.
“I couldn’t do it,” she uttered, her voice wobbling. “I missed you, wanted some attention, and knew that would get yourgoat… but I couldn’t do it. I paid five bucks for poop – for nothing.”
Oh, thank heavens…he thought in relief and then paused.
“I wanted tea tonight with you from that stupid kettle,” she warbled, wiping her eyes again. “I wanted to smash your toes practicing dancing… and I wanted you to look at me like that again, that look you get right before you kissed me the other night – which means I’ve lost my freakin mind. I never thought dementia or insanity would make you feel sad or lonely.”
He smiled tenderly at the screen and put his free arm behind his head, staring at her, drinking in this moment and what she was revealing right now. He might have lost tonight's game, but by golly, this was better than winning the lottery.
“I miss my kettle tonight too,” he offered gamely. “I missed those clodhoppers attacking my feet… and Steffi – I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”
“Shut up,” she wailed in response, putting her arm over her eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that I recognize I’ve lost my freakin’ mind – not trying to get you to put the moves on me, you Demented Wanker.”
“Babe, we’ve gotta work on your pillow talk,” he chuckled. “How about ‘Darling Warrior’ or ‘Devoted Winner’?”
“Did you win tonight?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go,” she tossed mulishly – and moved her arm to glare at him. “I don’t have clodhoppers.”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I would never dream of doing that.”
“You still are.”
“Nahh,” he drew out deliberately and saw a flicker of a smile on her face that made his heart wobble precariously in his chest. “You know, I decided I’m tired of this, too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah – I was calling because I scrapped your car. You’ll need to go get your things out of it tomorrow and pick up a check for five hundred bucks. It’s officially going to be a coral reef, and I had to negotiate the heck outta that deal.”
“But… but…”
“And keep the Camry – as my fake fiancée or…”
“Or?” she uttered warily as his own heart skipped a beat at what he was about to say. It was a good thing he was lying down in bed because he was pretty sure his knees would buckle and fold like a wet piece of paper.
“Or we could just drop the pretense and give this a try between us,” he offered – and held his breath.
“You’re a turd,” she retorted, but the bite – the attack wasn’t there. “So you want this whole thing to be real between us? No more faking, no more pretending, we’re going to try to be a real couple?”
“Would you like that?”
“Would you like an enema?”
“Are you asking to see my butt again?” Drake was rewarded with her nervous laugh as she rolled her eyes. “I knew it! You really are checking me out – aren’t you?”
“I’ve got to get some sleep,” she retorted without answering him – and he knew things were okay between them. Steffi thought he was hot, and he could happily live with that knowledge after that fiery kiss they’d shared. “Seriously – I need shut-eye, not twenty minutes of you bragging about yourself all the time.”