“So, where’s your truck?” Since she didn’t have a car, she might as well let him take her to the club. Her gaze skimmed over the array of vehicles lining both sides of the street. She didn’t have to ask which one was his. The medium-size, platinum-colored Hummer with the darkly tinted windows suited him. Before she knew it, he had taken her by the elbow, guided her across the street, ushered her inside, and closed the door. Watching Beau’s movements as he walked in front of the hummer was visually stimulating. For a big man he moved fluidly. Marissa had to glance away when he got into the driver’s side because she knew she couldn’t meet his gaze and not give her feelings away. He started the ignition and pulled out into traffic without even asking her where they were going. And since he was driving in the right direction anyway, Marissa stubbornly waited ten minutes before finally breaking down and asking the infuriating man where he was taking her. “You haven’t asked me where I’m going.” He burst out laughing, most likely because he’d been waiting for her to say something.
