Her mind had blanked. Part of her floated overhead, watching herself in her L.L. Bean button-down mom shirt (albeit a flattering one) in her flowery mom van, trading sizzling sexual innuendos with an elementary school principal whose green eyes were now just a little crinkled at the corners.
He knew exactly what he’d just done to her.
And he probably knew that she’d shocked herself.
Where on earth could their conversationgowhen it had started with an innuendo about orgasms? She should just start the car, back up, and pull quietly out of the parking lot and never return.
Instead, she folded her hands primly in her lap as if tucking in wayward wantonness.
“Are you more like...” she prompted. Somewhat subdued.
“...your mom or dad,” he completed easily. His eyes were still full of those wicked lights. Amused. But no less serious.
Her breath hadn’t yet returned to normal cadences.
And might never.
“I’m going to go with... well, I love them both madly. But I’m more like my dad.”
“Your dad, huh? Yeah, I think I see the resemblance around your fluffy mustache.”
He was laughing now.
“Hey! I’ll have you know Casey Carson prides herself in ripping every single hair off my face in exchange for really creative bouquets for her salon waiting area.”
He winced. “I’m not sure that’s a fair exchange. But why do you think you’re more like your dad?”
She hesitated. “Well, my dad’s a little less effusive, a little more guarded than my mom. Ferociously loving and protective, in his own growly way. Thinks my mom hung the moon, even after forty some-odd years of marriage.”
“Yeah?” he said softly. “Why do you think you’re guarded?”
It was a friendly, conversational question. But it was also a dare, in a way. And if she took it, it was another step down the ladder into the deep end of the pool.
Then again, every question between them was like this.
And she excelled at swimming.
And she couldn’t resist a dare.
But the deeper they got in, the harder it would be to just zip right back out to the safety of certainty.
It had been a pretty long time since she’d answered these kinds of questions about herself. Who was she, apart from Annelise’s mom? When was the last time someone wanted to know?
“Mmm... maybe I was born that way? But sometimes I think it’s because every family is dealt a sort of quotient of emotions to be distributed among the members, you know, like cell phone plans dole out minutes. My sister Avalon was always so very heart-on-her-sleeve, playing St. Francis to all these animals and I... I kept mine under wraps because I thought everyone would be surprised by how...powerfully...I felt things. I think pride was sort of wrapped up in it, too. And then I kind of liked being hard to read. I have never said that to anyone in my life. Certainly not in a drive-by situation.”
Her cheeks were warm. It was something of a warning. To tread delicately. Saying these things out loud made her feel a little raw.
“It must be the persuasive authority of my uniform.” He gestured to the neon vest. “But thank you for being honest.”
“Natch,” she said.
That made him grin.
“It’s why I have only one cat, by the way,” she added.
“How’s that again?”
“Because I feel like I can love him really well and really personally, rather than being profligate with my affections.”