I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up #3)(5)



Beyond my ability to appreciate her appearance, I think I might be even more attracted to how prickly she’s being. “Not big on tact, are you?”

“Not really, no. Surprising I’m single, huh?” She looks up at the clear blue sky. “So, Pierce, why don’t you take down my contact information so we can deal with the scratch on your steel baby, or whatever, and we can all be on our way.”

“It’s a three-thousand-dollar scratch.”

She blinks a few times, mouth dropping open. She shoots a glare over her shoulder. “For the love of Golden Grahams. She couldn’t have parked beside a Civic or something. Had to be an expensive car that’s expensive to fix.”

I dig my phone out of my pocket, pull up my contact list, and add her name. “Your number?” I consider how differently this might’ve played out if I’d approached her under alternative circumstances.

Rian rattles off a number, and as soon as it’s added to my phone I call it. Muffled lyrics come from inside the purse dangling from my finger.

She arches a brow. “Satisfied?”

“I will be when I have your sister’s license and insurance information.”

“Mar, get over here,” she calls over her shoulder.

Her sister trudges our way, looking more than a little cagey, and angry. Which is ironic since she’s the one who hit my car, not the other way around. “What?”

Rian motions to me. “He needs a picture of your license and insurance information.”

“My license is at home. You drove.” She’s still doing that hand-twisting thing. “I really thought I tapped it.”

“Tapped? Feel free to check out the missing paint.” I motion to the side of my car.

Rian’s eyes go wide as she takes in the long scratch gouged out of the side. “Oh, for frack’s sake. Look at this!” She drags her sister over to see the damage.

“That could’ve been there before. Maybe I really did bump his car and someone else did that and he’s using us so he can get our insurance to pay for it.”

“My paint is still on your car.” I point to the streak of black marring the front bumper.

“Maybe you put it there,” Mar says.

“Seriously? Well, if you had bothered to stop and get out of your car to look at what you did instead of driving off, you would know. You fled the scene. That’s a crime,” I point out. “Punishable by law.”

That gets her back up. “I panicked! And obviously you can afford to have it fixed. Look at you.” She motions to my suit. “What is this, an Armani?”

“It’s a Tom Ford, actually, and I could’ve called the cops and reported it. Do you have any idea what the fine is for that?”

Rian holds a hand up in front of her sister’s face. “Can you stop talking and get the insurance card out of the glove box? This is so embarrassing.” She directs her next comment at me. “I appreciate you not calling the police on my sister.”

“Especially since it was an accident,” her sister chimes in.

Rian grabs her sister by the arm and hauls her about fifteen feet away. They have a brief whispered, but heated, conversation. When they return, Rian passes the keys to her sister. “Get in the car, please.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’d like to avoid making this situation worse.” Rian has a stare down with her sister that lasts all of four seconds. She heads for the driver’s side until Rian stops her. “Passenger side.” There’s a lot of huffing and muttering of profanity as she rounds the hood and throws herself into the passenger seat.

I feel a little bad for Rian as she rummages around in the glove compartment and produces the insurance card and her license since her sister doesn’t have hers, especially considering how stressed she seems to be over the cost of the repairs. I have her number now, which is nice, although it’s come with quite the price tag.

Rian rubs her forehead with a sigh. “If you can forward me the quote and the bill for the repairs, we’ll work something out. I don’t know if it’s possible to avoid going through insurance, but we’ll manage it, however it suits you best, considering the circumstances.”

“I’ll get everything to you in the next couple of days.” I hand her back her purse.

“Great.” She gives me a smile that in no way matches that single affirmative word. “I’ll just wait until you leave before I do, you know, to avoid further potential damage to your very pretty, very expensive car.”

“Your thoughtfulness is much appreciated.” I give her a wink, to which she responds with pursed lips, flushed cheeks, and a muttered right.

I motion for her to get in her car before I get in mine. I even go so far as to hold the door open for her, like the gentleman I can sometimes be. She gives me a strained, slightly frustrated smile as I close her door, then get into my own car.

Her windows aren’t tinted the way mine are. So despite her best efforts, I can clearly see she and her sister are having some kind of tight-lipped argument. Her sister is also flailing her arms all over the place. Which is quite entertaining. I’m only half paying attention to what’s behind me as I back out of my spot, and nearly end up getting hit by a little old lady, also driving a powder-blue Buick.

Rian’s eyes are wide, one hand covering her mouth as I slam on the brakes and narrowly miss losing the back end of my car.

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