Baby Be Mine(Spinsters & Casanovas Series Book 1)(32)

“I didn’t kiss you without your permission,” Clarice argued.

“Oh, like I’m gonna give you permission to kiss me, then. You’re not my type,” Hunter lied. He didn’t need to give her permission to kiss him. She could smash those lips into him again and he wouldn’t give a fig. In fact, he wouldn’t mind doing it all over again, right here, right now, in front of the women’s restroom. This woman was so definitely his type.

“You are so not my type either,” Clarice retorted. “Arrrgghhh, how come every time I see you, you always managed to embarrass me?” she grumbled to herself, dusting invisible specks off her clothes.

“You’re one to talk. You spat at me when last we met. Remember? Not to mention yanking off my towel when you delivered those flowers. In fact, I should sue you for that too.”

“It was to the wrong address. I didn’t confess to you or anything. And regarding the spitting incident, you were in the wrong,” Clarice explained.

“I was in the wrong?” Hunter questioned. “How am I in the wrong when you were the one that spat on me?”

“You were in the wrong because you were the one who bought me that stupid drink. It tasted so disgusting. What was I supposed to do with that foul potion in my mouth? Swallow it? Of course not. I had to throw it up somewhere. If I died from that poison, then you would be the number one suspect on the list. And if I got sick, then you would be held responsible.” Clarice jabbed at Hunter’s chest to show she meant business.

“People don’t die of drinking spirits. And look at you. You seem healthy enough to me.”

“I wouldn’t be if I didn’t throw up,” Clarice argued.

“All right, why on me, then?”

“You were right in my face.”

“Well… well…” Hunter thought. Shit, he needed a good comeback. This woman was throwing him into a corner. He’d never lost a verbal battle before. When he couldn’t think of any other accusation or retort to stab back at her, he went back to the beginning. “You were the one to ask me to buy that drink, remember, acting all cute and innocent.” There, surely he was in the right now. Can’t argue with that one, he thought, grinning.

“Ha-ha-ha, I want to laugh. I did not act all cute and innocent. You were the one who came on to me. You came and sat next to me first,” Clarice challenged.

“Well, that’s because you were all alone, sitting there by yourself, looking so miserable that I had to rescue you,” Hunter rebutted.

“From what? From hungry predators looking for nice, innocent prey for dinner that night? I bet you were that hunter, you Casanova!” Clarice shouted.

Thinking they were both on an even score now, she grinned secretly.

Oh, how true her meaning is, Hunter thought. This Hunter, acting like a hunter, did prey on innocent young girls some nights—oh, who was he kidding—almost every night actually.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. I was only there to protect you. You looked so innocent sitting there by yourself. What could a gentleman like me do? Leave you as easy game for the others.”

“Mister, I had friends there so there was no need for your protection. And for your information, I am well over the young and innocent age,” Clarice explained.

“Still claiming to be thirty, sweetheart? You don’t look anything over twenty to me.”

“You think I’m lying?” Clarice asked in disbelief.

“I’m just stating what I see,” Hunter said, eyeing her body.

“Fine. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it to you.” Clarice rummaged through her bag, searching for her wallet.