Rules Of Engagement

28

The fear lasts exactly one second. Then rage kicks in and she starts to pummel my back with tiny fists.

“Put me down, you beast! Put me down right this minute!”

“Nope.” I head toward the door, nodding at the bartender. Unconcerned, he nods back, having probably seen a man carting off an angry drunken woman in his bar a thousand times before.

“Mason!” Maddie nips at my elbow, but misses.

Strangely enjoying myself, I grin. “I had no idea midgets were so bad tempered. Good thing I recently got a tetanus shot.”

She gasps. “We do not call little people midgets.”

“Why not?”

“It’s offensive!”

“Since when?” I’m genuinely confused. I had no idea I was being offensive. “Since forever!”

“But why?”

“Because the term dates back to the late eighteen-hundreds at the height of the so-called ‘freak show’ era, and it was only applied to people of short stature who were displayed for public amusement, that’s why!” She huffs in outrage.

Fuck, I love it when she does that.

“Oh. Okay. I apologize. I won’t use that word again.”

I push through the door and wince when the sun blinds me. Then I spot the Benz and head toward it.

In the driver’s seat, d**k has a coughing fit as he watches us approach.

When I reach the car, I flip Maddie over and set her onto her feet, steadying her when she starts to lean left.

She looks up at me, squinting. Then she produces a small, ladylike burp.

It might be the single cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard.

Except she doesn’t think so. She slaps her hand over her mouth and stares at me with wide, horrified eyes.

So, of course—being the asshole I am—I laugh.

“Oh, my goodness, please excuse me,” she breathes from behind her hand. “That was… oh my. Just awful of me. I’m so, so sorry. I cannot believe that happened. I swear I’m not normally gassy.

And I have much better manners than—”

She hiccups, then claps the other hand over her mouth.

Pretending to be stern, I say, “If you fart next, you’re so fired. Get in the car, gasbag.” Groaning, she covers her whole face with her hands.

“C’mon, let’s go.” I open the door and give her a gentle push inside. She collapses into the seat like she wishes it would swallow her. Grinning, I close the door behind her and trot around to the other side.

When I get myself settled, d**k is staring at me over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently. “Nothing at all.” Smiling, he turns around and starts the car.

Beside me, Maddie hiccups again. Hands still covering her face, she slides lower in her seat.

“So this is good information,” I muse. “When I’m looking for your next boyfriend, I’ll be sure to ask any candidates if they mind if it gets a little windy in bed.”

“I don’t fart!” she cries, mortified. “And I already said I’m not looking for a boyfriend!”

I try to make my voice sound understanding, but in reality I’m trying hard not to laugh again.

“Yeah, and now I get why.”

When she peeks at me through her fingers, I smile at her. “You can only blame the weird smells on the litter boxes for so long.”

She drops her hands and glares at me. “This is your fault! If you hadn’t tossed me upside down, I never would have—”

“Burped like a sailor after chugging a six-pack of beer? Sure. That’s what all the gassy girls say.” She stares at me for a beat, then dissolves into helpless laughter.

Watching her laugh—knowing that I made her laugh—makes me want to pound my fists on my chest like Tarzan. But I only sit there beside her, drinking in the musical sound and resisting the violent need to cut it off by crushing my mouth against hers.

Christ. This is getting pathetic. I need to get away from her before I make a complete fool of myself and start spouting poetry.

I must tell d**k to take Maddie home too sharply, because she stops laughing, and he frowns at me in the rear view mirror like I’m being a total ass.

Which is weird, since he doesn’t like her, anyway.

We’re silent for the rest of the ride. By the time we pull into Maddie’s driveway, she looks like

she can’t wait to escape from the car.

I’m out of my seat before she can open her door and striding around the back of the car to her side. When I pull her door open and hold out a hand, she hesitates.

She doesn’t wanna touch me.

Man, that hurts.

She sees my face darken and smiles. “Don’t let the kraken loose. I was just thinking you’re a fast learner.”

She reaches for my hand. Warm and soft, her fingers slide into my palm. She murmurs, “Thank you,” and allows me to help her out of the car.

Then we’re standing face to face and I’m trying not to admit to myself how much I like the way she compliments me. How she randomly says these sweet and sincere little things that make me feel good about myself for about five seconds, until I remind myself she doesn’t really know me at all.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” I say gruffly, pulling away and shoving both hands deep into my pockets.

“That’s not nec—”

“I said I’ll walk you!” I holler. “Are you trying to help me with my manners or not?” Inside the car, d**k sighs.

But Maddie doesn’t react. She only gazes calmly at me, her eyes searching my face. Then she says, “Whatever it is you’re angry about, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t take it out on me.”