She yanked her hand back. Anger flashed through her that she’d reacted in such a pedestrian manner. “Thank you, but I could have done it myself.” She started to step past him. His hand on her arm stopped her.
“Like I said before, you need to loosen up, Ash.” His voice softened. “Is that why you’re afraid of me?”
Afraid? She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you. You are just not what I’m looking for in a man.”
His eyes said he didn’t believe her. The way her pulse was going haywire, she wasn’t so sure she believed herself. But she knew what was good for her and what wasn’t.
“Ash, I think we both know you’re not being honest. Go out with me.” His voice grew husky. “Or at least have lunch with me. What could it hurt?”
Ashby’s resolve faltered. She stiffened her back and squared her jaw. “My name is Ashby and I’m not interested in having lunch with a playboy.” It sounded ugly, but it was as much for her own ears as for his.
His jaw tensed, but surprisingly he said nothing as she strode past him across the threshold, all too aware that he was watching her. All too mad at herself for losing control. The door closed with a refined click, as if to chide her.
The man took nothing seriously.
And she would do well to remember that bit of important information. She was looking for a husband. God’s man for her. Dan Dawson…
She watched him saunter toward Sam’s Diner, then turned her back to the window, putting the carefree flirtation out of her thoughts. Dan wasn’t that kind of man.
Not when she knew he’d probably stopped thinking about her the moment he’d stepped off the sidewalk and walked away.
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