Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(56)

He grips the steering wheel tightly, the veins in the back of his hand bulging. “Fine, we can forget it.”

Wow, he’s so convincing. Who knew he would care so much about freaking shorts.

“Are you going to be okay?” I ask. “It looks like you’re about to crack a molar.”

“It’s fine. Just tell me where we’re going,” he responds on a defeated sigh.

I turn in my seat, plaster a large smile on my face, and say, “The zoo.”

His head tilts back and presses against the headrest as he silently says, “Jesus Christ.”

I shake his arm. “Come on. It’ll be fun. And when we say we’ve been to the zoo together, this won’t be a lie anymore. And you know you’re curious about the donkeys.”

“I’m really not.” He looks at the watch on his wrist and says, “And actually, I just remembered I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Liar.” I push at his shoulder. “It will be my treat. I’ll even get you chicken tenders.”

He puts the car in drive. “Wow, I’m really winning today.”





“Are you really going to be grumpy this whole time?” I ask Silas as I pull him to the side, allowing people to pass us.

“I’m not grumpy,” he says, looking down at his zoo map.

“Uh, yes, you are. You barely spoke to me in the car. You grumbled under your breath when I tried to pay, then slapped my hand away, flinging my credit card to the ground—”

“That was an accident.”

“And now you’re practically trying to insert yourself in that map.”

“I’m looking for the tiger section. I like them.”

I lift his chin with my finger so he’s forced to look at me. “What’s the deal?”

His tongue slips over his teeth before he says, “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you showed me your ass the other day and now you’re in those shorts . . . are you trying to break me?”

“That’s what you’re mad about?”

He grips the back of his neck, causing his bicep to pull at his shirt fabric. “I’m just trying to figure you out. This is platonic, right?”

“Uh . . . yeah. Why?” I tilt my head to the side. “Oh my God, Silas Tater Tot—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are you falling in love with me?”

“Jesus.” He folds the map and puts it in his back pocket while pushing off the fence.

“You are, aren’t you?” I loop my arm through his. “It’s okay, you can tell me. I promise I’ll be gentle with your heart.”

“You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“I can tell you’re trying to deflect, and it’s cute.” I hold him close as we walk down the pathway, shrouds of jungle-like plants lining either side of the walkway. “But I need to remind you, dear Tatery Totty—”

“Seriously, enough with that shit.”

Ignoring him, I continue, “We’re just friends.”

“Uh-huh. And do friends usually taunt their other friends with their asses in saunas?”

“You thought that was taunting?” I pat his arm. “That was just an artful way to show off the human form. Also, we all have butts, nothing new to see.”

“Trust me, that was something new.”

“Are you saying I have a nice ass, Silas?”

“You have a really nice ass.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Well, thank you. That means a lot coming from the king of asses.”

He pauses and looks down at me. “King of asses?”

“Oh, have I not mentioned that before? Your glutes are so tight, they could easily crack a walnut.”

He chuckles, and I feel him loosen up. “Not sure about that, but thanks.”

“See.” I shake his arm. “You just needed to loosen up a bit. Anytime you need a compliment to get that fun-motor revving, you let me know. I have a bunch stocked up.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know, just things like you have the most amazing pecs I’ve ever seen in my life. Your shoulders are carved like stone, and not to mention the forearm porn you’re offering up today.”

He glances down at his forearms. “They’re pretty nice, aren’t they.”

We both chuckle, and I push him lightly to the side. “Okay, no need to inflate the ego. We have a whole zoo to visit, after all.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have invited me then,” he says, his mouth close to my ear. “Because now I’m going to be insufferable.”





“I could definitely haul more than that camel,” Silas says as we stare at the very large and beefy camel in front of us.

He has said the same thing about the rhino, claiming he could charge faster.

And the elephant—he could lift more.

And the freaking cheetah—he can run faster.

It’s been terribly annoying.

Maybe this is how he feels when I pester him.

“Yes, my dear Tater Tot, you sure can.” I pat him on the cheek.

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”