Kir smiled at that. “Just because she hasn’t shown interest doesn’t mean it’s not there. From what Cassie’s told me, Bonnie’s had few, if any, teachers in her life. Perhaps she doesn’t know what to do or how to make her interest known.” He shrugged and turned toward the hallway, but offered one last parting remark. “In either case, moy brat—assumption is still the enemy.”
Chapter Twelve
Off work at ten o’clock at night on a Tuesday. Talk about your foreign concepts.
Bonnie marched through the back door of André’s that Roman held open for her. The few days of low sixties they’d had over the weekend had given way to thick clouds and a never-ending mist that made the mid-forty temps feel more like zero.
Striding beside him into the employee parking lot, she ducked her chin deeper into her jean jacket and did her best to keep up. “You know, I’m fine staying until closing. My body’s used to late nights, and I didn’t even start today until two in the afternoon. Stopping at ten is like a half day for me.”
“You have worked enough.” The way Roman said it, Bonnie kind of got the impression he’d had a day from hell and needed some quality time vegging in front of one of the massive flat screens hung around his house. He opened the passenger door to his truck and held out his hand. “Now, we have some place to go.”
“We do?”
He nodded.
“Care to share?”
“I would prefer you get inside the truck where you’re not cold.”
She frowned at him, took his hand and climbed into the cab. “All right fine. Be tight-lipped about it.”
He shut the door behind her, but there was a tiny smile on his face before he disappeared around the back of the truck.
Mission accomplished.
She buckled her seat belt and bit back a grin of her own. Why she got such a thrill out of getting the big Russian sourpuss to lighten up she couldn’t say, but the last three days she’d made it her mission to do so. Making him watch Desperate Housewives. Talking him into a late-night run to a coffee shop for a latte. Giving him grief for leaving the toilet seat in the downstairs bathroom up. Of course, none of those things were really normal things she did or an issue for her, but it’d been fun watching his responses.
The strategy also did double duty in keeping her mind off the things Cassie, Evie and Ninette had said—all of which she’d decided couldn’t be right because there hadn’t been a single incident since Saturday that she could interpret as interest on Roman’s part.
Roman opened his door, situated himself and started the engine. The drive to his home in the Garden District wasn’t an overly long one, and the two times they’d driven it so far, they’d either had companionable silence, or Bonnie had done the conversational lifting.
This time, Roman barely made it out of the parking lot before he changed the game. “Tomorrow, we will go shopping.”
Bonnie looked at him. She couldn’t have heard that right. No man—especially one like Roman—willingly uttered those words to any female. “Huh?”
“Shopping. Be ready at noon. You need a new coat.”
She did? She glanced down the length of her at the tailored black slacks, white button-down and snappy black vest buttoned over it. Granted, her jean jacket didn’t look all that great paired with the standard-issue André’s uniform, but it wasn’t like she’d worn it in front of anyone. “Why? This one’s fine.”
“You’re cold.” He glanced her direction only long enough to add, “You will not be cold.”
God, this guy was a kick in the pants. Yeah, she knew he wasn’t literally ordering her not to be cold, but the weird pronouncements made her want to giggle. Not ribbing him a little when he made them was like passing up a chance to snuggle a purring cat. “I won’t?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” She waited a beat then said, “What if I like being cold?” She kept her head straight ahead when she said it, but she caught his scrutiny from the corner of her periphery.
He must have caught her smile before she hid it, because he harrumphed a second later and went back to staring out the windshield.
She chuckled and gave the guy a break. “Seriously. I don’t need another coat. In another month or two we’ll be back in the seventies. No point in wasting money.”
“Money spent on you is not a waste, and I will be the one spending it.”
Hold up.
What?
“I don’t need you to buy me a coat.”
He nodded and shifted his voice to that of a reasonably sound man. “As you wish. You do not need to.”
“Good. Glad we agree.”
“I, however, need to,” he said without missing a beat. “Therefore, you will be ready at noon, and we will shop.”
What. The. Fuck.
Were they arguing over shopping for coats? Seriously?
Maybe he’d caught onto her game and had decided to turn the tables on her.
Yeah, that had to be it. He’d probably find a fishing show when they got home and make her watch it. Or force her to learn how to unload and clean one of those wicked looking guns she’d found neatly stored in various closets around the house.
Actually...the latter option didn’t sound that bad. After her run-in with the dudes at her apartment, the idea of a concealed carry held a lot more appeal than it used to.
Regardless, if he wanted to play, she was ready. “Fine. Shopping at noon. Can’t wait. Maybe while we’re there, I’ll stop at one of those fancy makeup shops and see if they can do a makeover for me. Really change up my look. How’s that sound?”
She’d expected another grunt.
Maybe an outright refusal or a groan.
Instead, his voice softened, the tenor of it low and as thick as velvet. “You cannot improve perfection.”
Her breath caught in her throat and the quiet between them swelled to match the tight sensation behind her heart. She looked at him. “Did you...” Her mouth was suddenly too dry to speak and her mind short on words. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He glanced at her for only a moment, but the heat behind his gaze was enough to mark a woman for a lifetime. “Then the men before me were fools.”
Whoa.
A pleasant swirl pitched low in her belly even as the minions in her head scrambled to evaluate his words. Did he mean the men before him as in guys she’d known in general? Or the men she’d dated before him? It had to be the former. The latter implied the two of them had an established connection. A relationship. And while they’d been practically joined at the hip since Friday night, there hadn’t been anything more than polite contact helping her into or out of the truck since Saturday.