Smiling, he touched her mouth, amused by the mulish set to her lips. “I had to find your key card.” He let his hand drop to her narrow shoulder. “Wanna tell me about that phone book?”
Her brows puckered. “I usually keep numbers stored in my phone, but if my phone dies—”
“Sure. But why are you carrying numbers for Armie, Stack or Miles in the first place?”
Very slowly she eased away from him, her breaths slow and shallow. The lack of makeup added to her wounded expression, and her cough-strained voice finished it off. “What are you accusing me of?”
“I’m just asking.” Because you’re mine. Damn it.
Her eyes searched his. “No, I think it’s more than that.”
Right. It was the near-savage need to stake a claim. Knowing he couldn’t say anything that over-the-top, he said instead, “I think you and I need to come to an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?”
“Several actually, but let’s start with exclusivity.”
Uncertain, she slicked her tongue over her bottom lip. “So...you won’t be seeing anyone but me?”
Hell, since meeting her no other woman had appealed anyway. “And vice versa.”
Her chin lifted. “For how long?”
She’d come around in one hell of a mood. His jaw ticked, but he wasn’t about to say how much it mattered to him. “As long as it lasts.”
Looking like that answer bothered her, she deflated, closing her arms around herself and putting her head back on the seat. “Cannon insisted I have the numbers. I live with Rissy and you know how he is.” She lifted a hand, flapped the air. “Two women, all alone. He wants me able to reach him—or one of you—if anything happens.”
Yeah, that made sense. And now, seeing her so closed off, he felt like a damned bully. He tugged on a lock of her hair. “If there ever is reason to make that call, call me first.”
She flashed him a weary smile. “Funny, but Cannon insisted the same thing.”
Denver held silent. Cannon had rights that he didn’t have—yet.
Saving him from coming up with a reply, Cherry put a hand to her stomach. “You know, I think I’m actually a little hungry.”
A good sign. “Perfect timing, since we’re at a quickie mart.”
She looked down at her bare feet, touched her mussed hair. “I’ll need my sandals.”
“I can run in for you.”
Relief showed, though she tried to hide it. “You wouldn’t mind?”
How could he not kiss her? Drawing her close, he touched his mouth to the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. Soon as she was well, he planned to taste her again. All over. “Glad to do it. What would you like?”
“Maybe...pretzels? And a cola?”
It’d be better if he let her eat before grilling her more. He should have talked with her about her damned relatives instead of the phone book anyway. “You got a call from Merissa while you were sleeping. Why don’t you text her back while I’m in the store. And Cherry? Stay in the car with the doors locked, okay?”
Busy digging out her phone, she said, “I don’t suppose you’d let me pay—”
“No.” He caught her chin and turned her face toward his. “I’m serious, girl. Promise me you’ll stay in the car, doors locked.”
Confusion tweaked her brows, but she nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll only be a minute.” He took the keys with him, pressed the automatic door locks, and closed the door behind him.
There were only a few teenagers in the lot, an older man walking with a cane and a mother with two kids. Still, he rushed through buying her things and was back out to the car in under three minutes.
With the phone to her ear, Cherry smiled and nodded, but when she saw him, she hastily ended the call.
As he got in, he asked, “Merissa?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Something in the way she acted, avoiding his gaze, her cheeks flushed, got his attention. “You told her you were sick?”
“Yup.”
“Cherry.” When she looked up, he cocked his head. “What else did you talk about?”
A darker rush of color stained her cheeks, but it wasn’t from fever this time. “She, um, wanted details.”
“About?” Able to guess and entertained by it, Denver opened her cola and handed it to her. “Us?”
In a rush she said, “Everyone knows I’ve been hung up on you forever.”