Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(36)
Author: Mimi Strong

“I noticed something, back when we were outside the truck and you were grabbing my dick like it was the last organic turkey at the farmer’s market on the day before Thanksgiving. You aren’t wearing the ring I gave you.”

“I need to get it sized for my finger.”

“I know for a fact the ring will fit perfectly. You haven’t even opened the box, have you?”

“Everything’s in my suitcase, and, by the way, I brought back your sexy lumberjack coat.”

He nodded, taking his green eyes off me for just a moment. When he looked down, he always looked so sad and thoughtful. For an instant, I felt bad about being so hard on him, and lying about the ring.

His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered, then he looked up again, sunny and smiling that million-dollar grin. “Have you been to San Francisco before?”

“Is that the one with all the hills? And the trolley cars?”

“Yes,” he said, clearly amused by my description.

“No, I haven’t been there, then. I think I’d remember something like that.”

“I’ll try my best to make this a memorable weekend for you.”

“Hah! I’m scared to find out what you have planned.”

He nodded slowly. “Trespassing is definitely on the table.”

“No trespassing and no public nudity.”

“Come on, sugarlips. You were spending too many days in a sleepy little bookstore, and then I came along and unlocked your repressed cravings for criminal activity.”

I wagged my finger. “Oh, no, do not look so proud. I was a good girl, and you corrupted me. My mother’s friend went on a cruise and she didn’t even ask me to babysit her cat. People around town look at me funny, and they haven’t even seen my peaches in their magazines yet.”

“You’re a star.”

I took a pause to breathe. Was Dalton giving me a pep talk? I wished he was in the back seat with me, because I would have preferred a hug, or just his arm around me.

He continued, “When you become a star, you burn and burn. That fire touches everyone around you. Fame puts relationships on fast forward, and it shines a light so bright, there’s no shadow for your secrets to hide.”

“Especially when some stupid girl blabs your secrets, for which I am truly sorry.”

“You did me a favor.”

“Good! We don’t have to get fake-married.”

He grinned. “Nice try. You did me a favor, but you may have murdered my career.”

I leaned forward and stuck my fingertip right into his chin dimple. “But what about this dimple? This gorgeous face is going to have an amazing career, no matter what.”

“You were in LA for a few weeks. Didn’t you notice something about every food server and coffee barista you ran across?”

I kept poking him in the dimple. “Shut up. You’re Dalton Deangelo. Those sexy waiters and bus boys can’t hold a candle to you.”

He gazed into my eyes. “Marry me.”

I giggled in response, because Dalton was basically a mutant superhero, and his power was projecting stupidity from his eyes, straight into my brain.

He pulled away from my dimple-poking finger and neighed like a horse, which just made me laugh harder.

In a silly voice, he said, “I’m Lionheart! Nee-hee-hee-hee! I’m your favorite horsie ride, Peaches, so you should marry me.”

And that’s when Vern opened the driver’s side door to find Dalton holding his hands up like pretend hooves and me rolling side to side in the back seat laughing and trying not to pee my pants.

“You two,” Vern said, shaking his head like an embarrassed dad.

“Peaches brings out my crazy side,” Dalton explained.

Vern asked gruffly, “What are you doing up here in the front?”

“Well… there’s no privacy glass between the seats in this truck, and if I’m back there with Peaches, she’ll do something CRAZY like stick her hand down my pants—”

“Never!” I shouted.

Vern held his hand up to quiet both of us. “I’ve heard enough, Mr. Deangelo. Shall we proceed to the first location on the itinerary?”

“Yeah, hit the gas, man. Drive it like you stole it.”

Vern started the engine and turned to face Dalton, a questioning look on his face.

“What? It’s an expression,” Dalton said. “I did not steal this truck, honest.”

“Then why is there no tag on the keychain? No rental brand?”

“Because I rented from the cool place, for cool people.”

“There’s nothing cool about car rental agencies, sir.”

“But we’re in San Francisco, where everything is rainbows and unicorns and cool stuff.”

“That would be an excellent slogan for the postcards, sir.”

“Sarcasm!” Dalton turned and peered back at me, his eyes wide. “Vern, you’re being so sassy today. Peaches has been a bad influence on you.”

Vern steered the truck over to a security checkpoint, and then on to another road that looked like it would lead us to a freeway.

The two of them continued to argue lightheartedly about whether or not Vern was usually sarcastic, and how much I could be to blame for anyone’s behavior. I got my phone out and sent some photos and a text report back to Shayla, who was just getting out of bed.

She didn’t know about the engagement, and I felt bad not telling her.

Shayla: Why San Francisco? Has he told you why?

Me: I’ll let you know when I figure him out.

Shayla: He’s a really good actor. I don’t think you’ll ever get anything out of him that he doesn’t want you to know.

Me: I have my own methods and plans.

Shayla: Do tell!

Me: He’s pretending we’re just casual friends with benefits, but Vern told me he has real feelings for me, and I’m going to make him admit it.

Shayla: LOL! Good luck with that.

Me: We could have a moment. I just have to shut up and look pretty. Maybe by candlelight?

Shayla: He’s never going to give you what you crave. You know I’m Team Adrian now. Unless Keith Raven comes back from Italy.

Me: Adrian is really great.

Shayla: I’m going for brunch with him and Golden. Doesn’t that make you jealous? Don’t you want to fly back here and claim that tall freak as your personal pleasure partner?

Me: If Dalton doesn’t give me a little piece of his heart this weekend, maybe I will.

Shayla: Piece of his heart? Excuse me while I barf.