Page 59 of The Love Penalty
It’s tempting to rip my hands out of his grasp and bolt from this truck, but that would be so rude, and I need to try and explain this or his brain might explode.
With a little frown, I finally admit, “I don’t need you to look after me. I’m not some helpless woman who needs saving. I don’t want to be treated like a high-maintenance drama queen.”
He gives me a long, hard stare, then huffs, letting my hands go and spinning back to look out the front.
“Fine. We can split the bill,” he mutters. “But can I just say that I think it’s really unfair that men get criticized for wanting to be a gentleman or chivalrous—which has nothing to do with helplessness, by the way—but women are allowed to be as feministic as they like and we just have to lump it.”
Interesting. My lips fight a grin as I try to argue his point. “You have no idea how many men assume you owe them something if you let them pay for a meal.” I scoff. “Do you honestly not get how hard women have had to fight over the years? How hard some of them are still fighting just to be seen as equals?”
“Yes, I’m well aware of the power struggle. But there isn’t one between us.” He turns back to face me, his tone lightening like a soft breeze. “At least I don’t want there to be. And you don’t owe me anything. It will never be like that between us.” His gentle words embrace me. “I just want to take you out for dinner. I want to show you that you actually mean something to me.”
My heart spasms, this foreign sensation spreading through my chest as he looks away, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
I mean something to him.
Even though I make him lose his mind.
My lips start twitching again, and I let them relax into a smile as I reach for his wrist and curl my fingers around it. “I guess I did pay the last two times.”
He gives me a cautious side-eye.
“So… I’ll let you pay. I’ll let you take me out to dinner…”
He harrumphs like he doesn’t believe me, and I can’t help laughing.
He’s still pissed, but I can feel him thawing out pretty rapidly, so I throw in another comment to lighten the mood. “And it better be a fancy-ass dinner, because from what Caroline’s told me, you’re one rich MOFO, and I’d kind of like to see what you’re made of.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “You drive me crazy.”
“Thank you.” I give him the sweetest smile I can muster.
A breathy laugh pops out of him as he reaches for my face, cupping my cheeks the way I love so much and planting his lips on mine. I fist his shirt, keeping him close to deepen the kiss into something rich and passionate.
We let our tongues linger, playing and teasing until we’re out of breath.
Finally pulling away, he brushes his nose against mine and whispers, “Good night, my little Hawaiian Hottie.”
“Good night, Mr. Chivalrous.”
“Careful,” he warns me. “Saying shit like that might have me jumping out of the car and opening the door for you.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” I give him one quick peck on the lips, then pop my door open and jump down to the curb. Gripping the frame, I turn back to give him a look that I hope is meaningful enough. My throat swells with emotion as I rasp, “Thank you for tonight.”
His smile is beautiful as he nods. “Anytime.”
With a grin, I shut the door and head for my dorm. I hear the window go down behind me, and I glance over my shoulder. He’s still sitting there behind the wheel, watching me walk away.
“I’m fine!” I shoo him off with my hand. “I can get to my dorm without a protection detail! You don’t need to watch me get inside.”
“I’m just enjoying the view!” he calls back.
I can see his smile even in this dim light and can’t help a laugh.
Turning away, I feel his gaze from my shoulders to my toes… and it feels good. As I swipe my card and step into the building, I refuse to let myself look back.
My insides are reeling.
I never thought I could feel this way about someone I thought I should hate forever, but that Mr. Bensen is full of surprises, and I can’t deny myself the giddy jitters that burst through me as I think ahead to our fancy-ass date night.