“What's the matter with you? You didn't pay one bit of attention to me when I said I wanted to go home,” Gloria said, her voice hard with irritation. “Yes, I did. I heard you loud and clear.” They bounced onto a graveled drive and he parked the truck beside a frame building with beer signs nailed to the siding on each side of the door and a weathered swinging sign above. “You said you weren't hungry. You said you wanted to go home. You said I was giving you a headache. See there? I'm no dummy.” “That's your opinion.” “I'm starved,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “That bacon-and-tomato sandwich you gave me for lunch didn't amount to anything. It'll only take a few minutes to have a hamburger and a beer.” He made it sound quite sensible. “I'll wait out here.” “Stubborn little mule,” he murmured, and the intensity of his gaze caused her to blush, but she returned his look steadily. He opened his shirt pocket and dropped the truck keys inside. “Suit yourself.
