I roll my eyes and put a finger to my mouth to tell him to hush. I glance over my shoulder as Tyler approaches.
“Tyler Slade, a pleasure, sir. You are a natural star, I’m telling you. If you ever want to do, like, a Slade Brothers calendar, call me.”
Tyler laughs as they shake hands and Kevin excuses himself to give us a moment.
“He is right, ya know. Once you let your guard down out there, it looked really effortless. So, hey, can I buy you dinner at the Forks?”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.” He does that sexy thing men do where they run a hand over their scruffy beard.
God, this man gets sexier with every interaction. I’m kind of kicking myself for not taking him up on his offer the first night we met.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
I wrinkle my brow. “I don’t, actually.”
I’m playing coy, but I’m also a little curious, because while we flirted that night at the Fall Fest, I was the one chasing him and doing the flirting. I was the one who recommended a date as the prize for riding the bull. And I meant what I said earlier about him not liking me. At this point, I feel like an annoying little gnat always buzzing around him.
He gives me a look. A look that says, you know exactly why.
“Oh, come on, we work together; it’s merely a professional courtesy. It’s the least I can do. I promise I won’t jump you.”
He shakes his head and lets out one of those sexy, grunty laughs while he kicks at a rock on the driveway. When he looks back up at me, his eyes seem darker, hooded . . . lustful.
“Fine. But I wasn’t worried about you doin the jumpin’, darlin’.” He gives me a wink. “I’ll grab my keys.”
I thank Kevin and let him know he can take off as Tyler reemerges from the house and nods toward the garage around the back.
The door is already open and I walk around to the passenger side of the Super Duty F-350 truck. I’m reaching for the handle when Tyler’s shoots around me from behind. I whip my head to the side and almost hit my nose on his chest as he leans forward to open the door.
“This isn’t a date, you know,” I say as I step one foot onto the running board and grab for the handle on the inside of the cab.
“Not about being a date; it’s about being a gentleman. Common courtesy.”
He places his hand on my lower back as I hoist myself into the truck, his fingertips gliding softly against my shirt as I turn and take a seat.
“Men don’t open doors for women where you’re from?” He fires up the truck and puts it in reverse.
“I mean, yeah, some do, I guess, but that’s usually on dates. Most of the time it’s just a first or second date thing and then it goes away.” I shrug.
“Sounds like you’re dating the wrong kind of people then.”
“I just think it’s a generational thing. Guys my age don’t really care about stuff like that.”
He glances over at me briefly. “I realize I’m a decade older, but I can tell you that a real man will open doors for you and pull out your chair no matter what generation he’s from. It’s about being a man and not a boy. Chivalry doesn’t go away with time—at least not if it’s genuine.”
“It seems I’ve hit a nerve. This is the most I’ve heard you talk.” I smile at him so he knows I’m just teasing. “Trust me, I want those things. I just haven’t experienced them, so I guess I just thought it was an old-timey thing. Maybe I’ll meet some chivalrous cowboy out here who will show me how a real man treats a woman.”
I say it half as a joke. He doesn’t respond, but I swear I hear the leather of the steering wheel twist beneath his hand as he grips it tighter. We ride the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence.
“So why didyou take the job here and leave Chicago?”
I dunk a French fry into ketchup and pop it into my mouth, chewing it thoroughly as I think about how to answer that question.
“Why not? It was an amazing opportunity. I was born and raised in Chicago and I know I can always have a job there. It’s a major city and I’m well-connected, but I wanted something new. I wanted a new environment and a new challenge.”
He nods as he swallows the bite of his steak sandwich. “You running from something?”