What She Really Wants for Christmas

She turned to him abruptly. “No. Why?”

He shrugged into the camel-colored cashmere coat he’d found at an end-of-season sale last year. Still, it seemed like a big splurge when he’d had so many student loans. “I don’t know. I thought maybe someone was stealing your car.”

She adjusted his collar with a familiarity that startled him. “Then they’d be doing me a huge favor.” Their eyes met and she quickly lowered her hands.

“I don’t suppose you have a coat with you,” he said and continued buttoning.

“What do you think?”

“Right.” He opened the door and she preceded him into the dark parking lot. “My car okay?”

“I could follow you.”

“Promise to have you back anytime you say.”

She looked tentative at first, but then nodded and followed him to the Camry. She smiled when he opened the passenger door for her. He did it out of habit, but was rewarded when she swung her long legs into the car and her skirt rode up to an indecent height. She saw him watching and he immediately closed the door.

The air was cool and damp, which could easily ruin his plans. Although he did have a blanket in his trunk that would help. He got behind the wheel and immediately turned on the engine. Fortunately, the heater did its job. Liza had to be chilled, no matter what she said.

He heard the passenger window go down and turned to her in astonishment. She slid her finger over the control and it went back up.

She looked over at him. “Wow. A grown-up car. Real automatic windows and everything.”

“I even have an automatic hood. Want to play with it?”

“May I?”

Evan smiled as he pulled into traffic. “You win that lawsuit and you can have any kind of car you want.”

Her grin disappeared and she turned to stare out of the window.

“I say something wrong?”

“I’m not doing it for the money,” she said quietly.

“Your business.” He hadn’t been prying. He hadn’t even given thought to his words. They’d just come out.

After a long silence she asked, “Where are we going, anyway?”

“You like Chinese?”

“I like the noodles and sweet-and-sour chicken.”

“Good.”

“So where—”

“You’re not allowed any more questions.”

She snorted. “Says who?”

It was a moot question since they’d reached their destination. He pulled into a spot in front of the small mom-and-pop take-out place and turned off the engine. There was a short counter where customers occasionally ate, but primarily it was a to-go business with three different entrée choices each day. Fortunately, vegetable chow mein and sweet-and-sour chicken were a staple.