made her feel as if she wasn’t smart enough to make good decisions. Having time to cool off and think about it, she begrudgingly admitted to herself he was right.
Before she could climb off her scooter, a motorcycle sped down the road and pulled in behind her. Sloan sat staring at her for a few seconds before turning off his engine.
“Do you even know how close you were to hitting Duncan?” Sloan asked, his voice a little calmer.
“How do you know where I live?” She stared at him wide eyes.
Sloan closed his eyes for a second and cursed under his breath. “Background check.” He opened his eyes, pinning her to the spot. “Now answer my question.”
“Which one?” she replied, then sighed. “I was hungry and didn’t have anything here to eat. I drove my scooter because it’s cheaper on gas. I forgot my helmet again, but I was only planning on going up the street, and I wasn’t that close to Duncan’s car.” There, she’d answered every question he had asked. Maybe he wouldn’t fire her.
“You forgot to answer one.” He crossed his arms over his chest, no longer glaring.
Becky thought for a minute. “No, I don’t think I did.” She tilted her head. The music from the bar across from her house drifted toward them. She couldn’t believe he’d followed her from the river. He was most likely there to fire her officially and save himself the trouble when she showed up to work the next day.
“It’s actually the most important question I asked,” Sloan replied, then glanced across the street to the bar when a few people exited the establishment loudly. His attention swung back to her and he waited for a few more intense seconds for her to answer. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if I hadn’t been there?”
She started to ask him why exactly had he been there, but remembered he didn’t seem to like when she answered his questions with a question of her own. Then again, she really wanted to know, so decided to live on the edge.
“And why exactly were you there?” She waited for him to blow up again.
“Are you trying to make me angry?” His voice wasn’t angry really, just more curious than anything else.
“Am I fired?” shot out of her mouth. She couldn’t help it; she needed to know.
Sloan opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and just stared at her. Finally, he shook his head and chuckled. “No, Becky. You’re not fired.”
“Ah, thank God.” Becky released a big sigh of relief.
“Unless…,” Sloan added.
Her eyes popped open wide. “Unless what?” Oh, crap. She wondered what the terms would be and if she could follow them.
“You stop answering my questions with questions.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, but no chuckle followed his statement.
“I’ll do my best,” Becky hedged, not wanting to promise something she may totally fail at. “Listen, sometimes I get a little heated. I blame the red hair for that, and well, I’m sorry. And thank you for what you did. I do know what could have happened if you hadn’t been there. I go to that same spot all the time and never has anything happened to me.”
“You shouldn’t be out alone in a secluded area this late at night,” Sloan warned her, his voice stern.
“You’re right and usually it’s not this late. I just wasn’t ready to come back home.” She shrugged, looking away from him. “Haven’t you ever just done something on a whim?”
“No.” Sloan’s one-word reply said it all.
“Oh.” She glanced up at him, then back to her dark house that she didn’t want to walk into alone. Her independent self cursed her for being an idiot, but her lonely self patted her on the shoulder. “Would you like to come in for a minute? I have two beers as an offering of thanks.”
She waited for his answer. Half of her wanted him to say no, the other half begged for him to say yes. What in the hell was wrong with her? Didn’t she just have a conversation this morning with her
Before she could climb off her scooter, a motorcycle sped down the road and pulled in behind her. Sloan sat staring at her for a few seconds before turning off his engine.
“Do you even know how close you were to hitting Duncan?” Sloan asked, his voice a little calmer.
“How do you know where I live?” She stared at him wide eyes.
Sloan closed his eyes for a second and cursed under his breath. “Background check.” He opened his eyes, pinning her to the spot. “Now answer my question.”
“Which one?” she replied, then sighed. “I was hungry and didn’t have anything here to eat. I drove my scooter because it’s cheaper on gas. I forgot my helmet again, but I was only planning on going up the street, and I wasn’t that close to Duncan’s car.” There, she’d answered every question he had asked. Maybe he wouldn’t fire her.
“You forgot to answer one.” He crossed his arms over his chest, no longer glaring.
Becky thought for a minute. “No, I don’t think I did.” She tilted her head. The music from the bar across from her house drifted toward them. She couldn’t believe he’d followed her from the river. He was most likely there to fire her officially and save himself the trouble when she showed up to work the next day.
“It’s actually the most important question I asked,” Sloan replied, then glanced across the street to the bar when a few people exited the establishment loudly. His attention swung back to her and he waited for a few more intense seconds for her to answer. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if I hadn’t been there?”
She started to ask him why exactly had he been there, but remembered he didn’t seem to like when she answered his questions with a question of her own. Then again, she really wanted to know, so decided to live on the edge.
“And why exactly were you there?” She waited for him to blow up again.
“Are you trying to make me angry?” His voice wasn’t angry really, just more curious than anything else.
“Am I fired?” shot out of her mouth. She couldn’t help it; she needed to know.
Sloan opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and just stared at her. Finally, he shook his head and chuckled. “No, Becky. You’re not fired.”
“Ah, thank God.” Becky released a big sigh of relief.
“Unless…,” Sloan added.
Her eyes popped open wide. “Unless what?” Oh, crap. She wondered what the terms would be and if she could follow them.
“You stop answering my questions with questions.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, but no chuckle followed his statement.
“I’ll do my best,” Becky hedged, not wanting to promise something she may totally fail at. “Listen, sometimes I get a little heated. I blame the red hair for that, and well, I’m sorry. And thank you for what you did. I do know what could have happened if you hadn’t been there. I go to that same spot all the time and never has anything happened to me.”
“You shouldn’t be out alone in a secluded area this late at night,” Sloan warned her, his voice stern.
“You’re right and usually it’s not this late. I just wasn’t ready to come back home.” She shrugged, looking away from him. “Haven’t you ever just done something on a whim?”
“No.” Sloan’s one-word reply said it all.
“Oh.” She glanced up at him, then back to her dark house that she didn’t want to walk into alone. Her independent self cursed her for being an idiot, but her lonely self patted her on the shoulder. “Would you like to come in for a minute? I have two beers as an offering of thanks.”
She waited for his answer. Half of her wanted him to say no, the other half begged for him to say yes. What in the hell was wrong with her? Didn’t she just have a conversation this morning with her
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