With her pretty pout and big brown eyes, Audrey certainly jazzes up my hangout spot. I study every breath she takes, savoring these quiet moments. Soon, she’ll return to Ellsberg, and I’ll lure her back here. I’m already making plans for our future when she nibbles at her sandwich and sighs dramatically.

“This is too much.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking great.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Zoink,” I say, stealing away her sandwich. “What do you want instead?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Lying is really not your strong suit, Pipsqueak. Please stop. It’s making me want to point and laugh at you.”

Audrey opens her mouth to call me a shit stain or fart bag or some damn thing. I take a bite of her sandwich and wait for the onslaught, but she only smiles.

“Would you really point and laugh?”

“Sure. I’m a happy fucking person. I laugh often.”

Her big brown eyes study me, and I struggle not to react to her inspection. “Can I have roast beef?”

“Yes, you may.”

“Go get it,” she says when I don’t move.

“I know your mama taught you how to say the magic word.”

“Please, go get it.”

“That’s the Johansson touch.”

Audrey smiles at my compliment, and I sense she’s finally shaking off her earlier crankiness. I can’t even begin to guess what set off her bitch-meter. She didn’t look pissed when she first arrived at the office. Is she really just obsessed with the Twat Twins’ betrayal? Or—and I’m leaning heavily in this direction—did seeing a man of my quality send her hormones into overdrive? Women get stupid when horny. Cricket proves that every time her hubby, Poet, takes off his shirt.

Once I order Audrey a roast beef sandwich, she settles down enough to eat. I finish her muffuletta and check my phone. Dad messages me to say Cooper is super fucking pissed and it’s really fucking funny and I ought to return the crazy fucking biker’s fucking daughter before the fucker has an aneurysm.

In my message to Dad, I declare Audrey to be the first fucking diva I’ve ever felt the slightest bit of interest in since I stopped stalking my sister’s best friend, Bianca Bella. So for the sake of my fucking heart and dick, I have no intention of returning fucking Audrey until I have a second fucking date set up.

“About fucking time you manned the fuck up,” Dad messages back.

Audrey tries to see my phone, but her petite stature doesn’t allow her much reach. “Who are you texting?”

“My other girlfriend. She wants to fight you. I’m trying to talk her out of it since I’m a hundred percent sure you can take her.”

“Fucking-A, I can. Oh, and I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you are. I kissed you and bought you food. Those acts count as a girlfriend deposit. I’m now leasing you with the option to buy.”

Audrey laughs despite my serious expression. She’s catching onto my shtick.

My phone chimes with a message from Mom who heard I like a girl. She sends a gif of Phoebe from “Friends” dancing excitedly. I roll my eyes and ignore her teasing.

“Our fathers plan to meet around two tomorrow and talk out business shit. Afterward, they want to eat dinner at my family’s restaurant. I thought you and I should ditch that double-date scenario and go be alone somewhere.”

“Alone?”

“For a meal.”

“We already ate.”

“A snack today, but I’m talking about tomorrow. I’d hit you up for dinner tonight, but I have to believe your father is shitting his pants with rage right now. I seriously doubt he’ll let me scoop you up for a late supper. With you leaving Sunday, tomorrow is our only chance for more alone time.”

“I’m not sure I want alone time with you.”

“So tell your father that I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Don’t ignore what I’m saying.”

“I’m only ignoring the words coming out of your pretty mouth. I’m totally listening to the signals your face is sending.”

“Leave my face out of this.”

“If only I could.”

Audrey glances at her phone and then around the restaurant. “I should call home and ask my mom what she thinks about your proposal. She’s got a good sense about bullshitters.”

“She’ll say yes. Moms like me. I have good manners and can get shit off top shelves. I’m a fucking catch, so I’ll pick you up at six.”

Audrey lowers her head on her arms and sighs. “What’s the point of getting to know each other? I’m out of here on Sunday.”

“You live a few hours away. I’ll visit you, and you’ll visit me. We’ll keep that up until I talk you into staying here permanently.

“Why should I give up my home while you keep yours?”

Squeezing my trash into a tight ball, I shrug. “Because I’m a man and that means my word is law.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I still want to punch you.”

I smile at her annoyed expression. “And I’d want to laugh at your attempt. Instead, let’s skip the violence and accept how you dig what I have, and I’m all over what you’re offering. We should see what happens next.”

Audrey frowns while sizing me up. She can’t really be this unaccustomed to men tripping over themselves to get her attention. Does she pull this shy, virgin con on all guys or am I special?

Our plans for dinner never get etched in stone before I walk her to the Harleys. She does manage to casual-as-fuck dodge my attempt to kiss as she slides on her bike. Rather than return to my office, I direct her to the Holiday Inn where he dad’s headed. We arrive minutes before him, and I use this opportunity to corner the squirrely brunette.

“You and me and dinner tomorrow, yes or no? I won’t beg, but I will stalk you. Don’t think your father can stop me either. In a game of keep away, I’ve got several inches on him. So what will it be, Audrey Johansson?”

“My pop could stop you,” she says, stubbornly defending her ideal man.

“I’m immune to his usual tactics. Do you think he’s agile enough to devise new ones?”

“He’s plenty fucking agile.”

“Did your mom tell you that?” I ask while my fingers caress the seam of her flannel shirt.

Audrey refuses to smile. Her thick brows dip together, and her plump lips pout. She wants so badly to own a poker face, but that ship sailed back in the womb. Anyone who can’t read her just isn’t paying attention.

“Well?” I ask and lean down to nuzzle my lips in her soft, thick hair.

“Let’s see how pissed my pop is first.”

“Is he your daddy or your boss?” I whisper against her cheek.

Audrey’s breath catches as she turns her lips to meet mine. Does she hope to distract me with affection? If so, I applaud her move. I mean, shit if I couldn’t suck on her sexy lips for an eternity. Unfortunately, the distinct sounds of her father’s Harley interrupt a hot, playful kiss.

“Yes or no?” I ask, stepping back and watching her face go through several different expressions—lust, confusion, satisfaction, concern, fear, and lust again. Finally, she settles on stubborn uncertainty.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll let you pretend you’re a scared rabbit,” I say, handing her my phone. “Call your cell from mine so we’ll have each other’s numbers.”

Though Audrey might want to give me shit, she’s acutely aware of her father’s approach. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn the old man still grounds her. Audrey suffers from a pretty clear case of arrested development. I’ve been there too, having been severely babied by my loving family. Eventually, I shook off my diapers and grew up. Now that Audrey has a goal—the hunk she watches drive away even after her father gives her the riot act—I suspect she’ll be yanking on big girl panties soon.