Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(16)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Tuesday wanted to believe that was true, but she wasn’t convinced. “I think he just felt sorry for me.”

“And I think you’re nuts. If you felt sorry for a guy, would you go to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner?”

Tuesday made a face. “No, of course not! Ew. Those are totally awkward and then everyone would think we’re dating . . . ooohh.” The light went off in her head. She got where Kendall was going with this. “You’re right, people are totally going to assume he and I are a couple. Hell, if he was here with anyone else, I’d be writing about it in my gossip blog.”

“Exactly. So I say check it out. Go out with him and see what happens.”

“You just want to know about his penis.”

Kendall grinned. “Maybe. But really, I think you might actually enjoy yourself. He’s a good guy, a good fit for you.”

Tuesday didn’t know enough about Diesel Lange to make that kind of conclusion. She wasn’t even sure she knew what was a good fit for her. Her last three relationships had ended with the guys all concluding she was too successful, too independent, too driven. Apparently the modern man wanted a woman up in his shit all the time, as best she could figure. That wasn’t her. She had no interest in texting someone eight hundred times a day and spending every free second she had with him. She wanted a partner, an equal, someone whose company she sought because she enjoyed it, not because she was desperately trying to cleave to him so he didn’t leave her.

It didn’t seem that complicated, but maybe it was. And while she had no clue what Diesel would look for in a relationship, she did know that thus far he’d treated her with kindness and respect, and that was no small thing.

In fact, it meant the man deserved the cup of coffee she was holding for him. “Well, whatever he is, I should get back to him, and you back to your guests.”

“Good point. Call me later. You know, after Diesel drives you home.” Kendall grinned.

“I feel like ass. I’m definitely not sleeping with him today. If I’m going for it, you can be damn sure I’m going to be in top form.”

“Oh, so it matters to you what he thinks?”

With that comment, Kendall flounced away before Tuesday could nail her with a retort. It mattered, just not for the reasons Kendall was implying. It always mattered how people perceived her and she always wanted to do her best, no matter what it was.

Uptight. Control freak. Yeah. That was her.

Taking her seat at the table, she placed the coffee in front of Diesel. “I forgot to ask how you take it. Do you need cream and sugar?”

He smiled at her. “Black is fine.”

They just looked at each other for a second, her feeling scrutinized, him giving her a secret small smile. “What?” she finally asked him.

“You just look pretty, that’s all.”

Tuesday rolled her eyes, knowing she looked like hell, but she had to admit, she was pleased. “Thank you. Note to self: Diesel likes pasty white skin and dark under-eye circles.”

“Yep,” he said, and took a sip of his coffee. Actually, it was more of a gulp, a man-sized sip that drained half the cup.

Tuesday studied his hands. They were callused and rough, with long fingers, a working man’s hands. He might have a sizable bank account, but he was still the guy in the work boots, and she found that inexplicably hot. She found a lot of things about him hot, actually. Like his hair. His pale blue eyes. His jaw. His height. His hands.

Mostly though, she liked his kindness. The way he sat relaxed, laid back, never stressing. She was like a continuous ball of energy—good or bad. She bounced between highs and lows, having a blast and stressing over everything, and Diesel didn’t seem to do that. He took life in stride, and when he looked at her, she felt like he was truly listening to what she was saying.

Nor would he rise to the bait when she tried to provoke him.

The woman in the pink suit leaned across Diesel to talk to Tuesday. “Your husband is a real sweetheart, dear. He’s been letting me show him pictures of my Lottie. She’s my Pomeranian.”

“Oh, he’s not my husband.” Tuesday could have let it go, but then what if Diesel thought she was getting off on the concept? She was no marriage-minded gold digger.

Diesel frowned at her. “Well, don’t look so relieved.”

Tuesday rolled her eyes. Men were such delicate creatures.

“This one’s a good catch,” the lady told her. “You need to snap him up. What are you waiting for?”

A first date would be helpful. Tuesday reversed her opinion on denying they had a relationship. This was the perfect opportunity to give him a hard time, and she was going to take it. “For him to ask me.”

Diesel’s eyebrows rose.

Pinky made a clucking sound. “Oh, dear.” She touched Diesel’s arm. “Are you one of those men who can’t commit?”

“Of course I can commit.” Diesel looked indignant. “The truth is, I didn’t know she wanted me to ask her.”

Tuesday almost laughed.

“Well, all women want you to ask. Why else would she be dating you?”

For companionship and hopefully great sex, but Tuesday realized that was a viewpoint foreign to anyone over sixty. Hell, it was foreign to a lot of men her own age. That was all she wanted, really. Just someone to spend time with, was that so hard? But it was amusing to watch Diesel wiggle on the hook.

“Well, you’ve certainly given me something to think about, Mrs. Crandall.”

“Hmpf,” was Mrs. Crandall’s opinion. She caught Tuesday’s eye. “If you don’t have a ring by Christmas, dump him.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely. You can’t allow these men to be lazy and take you for granted. Are you sleeping with him?”

Diesel made a choking sound next to her. Tuesday fought a grin. “No.” She could say that in all honesty.

“Good girl. Never give away the milk for free.”

Diesel shoved his chair back and stood up. “Excuse us, Mrs. Crandall, I would like to take a stroll outside with my girlfriend before lunch is served.”

“Oh, of course.” Mrs. Crandall looked smug. She even shot Tuesday a wink.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you?” Tuesday asked him as Diesel took her arm and led her across the room. “It will make Mrs. Crandall superhappy.”

Diesel felt like he should be stern with her, but truthfully, he was amused. As uncomfortable as if someone had dumped itching powder in his shorts, but nonetheless, amused. “I was thinking of asking you to zip your lip, but then I figured that was pointless. I bet you talk even in your sleep.”