Page 49 of Hidden Resolution

Two: get in the hired vehicle, run through a drive-thru, visit Zack and Erica, then finally go car shopping.

Three: knee Mason in the nuts for making her stand in a parking lot like an idiot while debating her hopeless caffeine dependency.

Four: murder him on the spot, guzzle both cups, and take her chances with the law.

Three moved up the ranks the fastest, with four close behind. For the moment, she’d tuck murder in her back pocket.

Mason, apparently recognizing her internal war, approached, handed her the coffee, and kissed her brow like he had a right. She grudgingly allowed him to lead her back to his car.

The jerk even held her cup while she buckled up.

“Toasty, huh?” he asked, not bothering to hide his smirk.

The feel of buttery leather seats was miles ahead of whatever her hired driver could offer.

“I don’t know the etiquette on sending him away,” she confessed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “We’ll work it out.”

His thoughtfulness ranked near the top of the list of things she appreciated about him. Well, right after those abs and the unfair perfection of his ass.

The second he settled behind the wheel, she cleared her throat. “For the record, we are not sleeping together. Not anymore.”

“If you say so,” he said flatly, noncommittally, as if the conversation bored him.

Her irritation spiked. “I do!”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “Asshole.”

“Now you’re justbeggingto sniff me. No means no, Shonda.”

She turned to the window to hide her smile. But it faded almost instantly.

Getting sucked in by Mason’s charm again would be a rookie mistake. And today, he poured it on thick as pancake syrup.

Her mind wandered to where he’d slept last night. Probably at Deirdre’s. Her neighbor in 2B had never met a man she didn’t want to bang, and more than once, she’d propositioned Shonda’s dates. Managed to snag a few of the less scrupulous ones, too.

“Where did you sleep last night?” The question escaped before she could slam the lid on her suspicions.

Filter, Shonda. Filter!

“A nice redheaded woman offered to put me up.”

She nearly ground her molars to dust, barely holding back a throat-punch with his name on it. After all, he was driving. Safety first.

“I didn’t take her up on it. I stayed awake outside your door like I said I would,” he said conversationally. “I’m really rather surprised you’d leave me to freeze after I saved you from a fiery death.”

Curious despite herself, she asked, “What did you do to stay warm?”

“At half-hour intervals, I cranked up the heater in my car.”

“And this morning’s coffee kindness is what? You’re suddenly reformed and decided to repent the error of your ways?”