Zoe laughed at that, and that was when her fear evaporated. “You sure as hell do, Scars. You did with me.”
“I didn’t know that’s what it was with you.”
“Oh, my God. Really?” She was mocking him now, and suddenly that seemed like the best way to get out of this confusing situation: make him mad as hell at her so he’d storm out, and then – with a bit of four-leaf-clover luck – he’d stay far, far away from her. Forever. “So when you took me to the bar back room, you were proposing marriage?” Her lip curled up. “My mistake, Scars.”
“Hey.” The urge to shake her until she stopped talking complete bullshit was building in his broad chest. “Zoe –”
“Look, I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here,” she cut him off. “But if I had to guess, I’d say that it’s got something to do with Wolf.”
