“You’re not really going to start seeing that woman, are you?” she whispered to Booker.
“What woman?” he responded, his eyes on the screen.
“Chevy.”
He glanced at her. “I don’t let my friends get involved in my love life,” he said. “Even good friends.”
She grimaced at his words. “I’m not getting involved in your love life. I just can’t believe you’re attracted to that…to that—”
“What?”
“You don’t think she’s that pretty, do you?”
Katie was already regretting the fact that she’d let Booker help her shop for industrial-size panties, but her remorse grew by leaps and bounds when he said, “What’s not pretty about her?”
“Well, I know she’s slender and…”
“Friendly,” he supplied.
“Right, and—”
“She has sexy eyes.”
Katie knew how much Booker liked eyes. Eyes, lips and legs, in that order. “She’s all collagen and silicone,” she said.
“And you know this how?”
“I have X-ray vision. What do you think? I’m a beautician. I notice these things.”
“Maybe I don’t have a problem with a little medical enhancement. At least she’s emotionally accessible.”
Emotionally accessible? That phrase hadn’t come from Booker. Dropping her voice because the people behind them were starting to murmur about the noise, Katie said, “How did that come up?”
“She just said so.”
“In the ten minutes you were standing together in line, she told you she was emotionally accessible?”
The man directly behind snapped at them to be quiet, but he improved his attitude considerably the instant Booker turned in his seat and glared. With that scar on his face and his mysterious eyes, Booker didn’t look like anyone to mess with.
“I don’t think she was talking about her emotions when she mentioned she was accessible,” Katie said as he faced front again. “Did she ask you if you carry condoms, too?”
She thought she heard Booker chuckle, but when she opened her mouth to speak again, he nudged her.
“Be quiet. You’re going to get me in a fight.”
“You like fights.”
“I’ve already been in more than my share.”
“That probably goes for beds, too,” she muttered. She was suddenly spoiling for a good argument and hoped Booker would oblige. He didn’t. He gave her one of his crooked grins, which could be sexy or infuriating, depending on the situation. Today it was both, and that bothered Katie more than ever. Since taking up residence with him, she couldn’t seem to regain her center….
She was just out of sorts. Probably because the movie did little to capture her interest. It had a lot of karate stuff going on, and people blowing up cars and bridges and pretty much destroying everything in sight. Booker had chosen it, of course. But she couldn’t complain too loudly. He’d also bought the tickets.
Closing her eyes, she decided to let herself rest, just until her eyes stopped burning.
When she woke up, the movie was over and she had her cheek pressed into the soft cotton covering Booker’s shoulder.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FELL asleep during that movie,” Booker said when they were nearly home.
Katie covered a yawn. “That good, hmm?”
“It had some of the most awesome fight scenes I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m sorry I missed it.”
She knew he’d picked up on her sarcasm when he looked over. “Okay, next time we’ll see something guaranteed to make us cry. Will that make you happy?”
She didn’t answer. She’d been trying to start an argument earlier, but that impulse seemed to have passed.
“Why so quiet?” he asked after another few miles. “Don’t tell me you’re still tired. You slept through the movie and almost the whole ride home.”
“I’m not tired.” She stretched her legs out to admire her new loafers. “I was just trying to imagine you crying in a movie. Or crying at all, for that matter.”
“Sorry I asked.”
“Has it ever happened?”
“Hell, no. I’m too much of a badass,” he said, but his accompanying scowl was more of a half smile, and she could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Okay, so you have broken down. Tell me about the last time. What did it take?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I poke my finger in my eye instead?”
Katie couldn’t help laughing. “What a baby.”
“You want to probe my deepest pain? Tell me something I want to hear first.”
“Like what?”
He turned down the radio. “Like why it took you two years to leave Andy if he started using right after you arrived in San Francisco. Were you using, too?”
“No.”
“So you put up with Andy as an addict for two years?”
She adjusted her seat belt so it wasn’t pressing against the baby. “I knew I’d made a mistake almost the moment I hit the city,” she said.
“Yet you stayed.”
“I’d made a commitment. I felt responsible for my own bad decision and was determined to make the best of it. And…part of it was pride. I didn’t want to give up and come home with my tail between my legs—like I had to do once I got pregnant.”
Booker opened the ashtray. Katie knew he was looking for a toothpick. When he found it empty, he snapped it closed. “What then?”
“Then I caught him in bed with the stylist from the station next to mine.”
“Not your bed.”
She turned toward the window and watched the snow-drifts, piled high on the side of the road, blur as they drove past. “No, her bed. I stopped by to drop off a tip one of her clients had brought to the salon. It was a big tip, and I knew she’d be excited about it because she needed the money. When I arrived, Andy was there.” She took a deep breath and faced Booker, realizing that this incident seemed to have lost most of its sting. “Needless to say, they were both surprised to see me.”
Booker’s jaw tightened. “You were already pregnant at the time?”
She nodded. “That was a horrible day, but—” she hesitated, examining her feelings “—now I’m kind of glad it happened.”
“You want to explain that?”