“Noted.” He winks. A very conspiratorial, evil wink. “Paws in, Swarley,” he says louder just before closing both doors.

Chapter Five

Day One

Destination: Chicago, Illinois

“Do you hate me?” I break the silence after thirty minutes into our road trip.

A tiny smile quirks the corner of Jake’s mouth as he keeps his eyes on the road. “No. I don’t hate you. I don’t really know you.”

“But I annoy you?”

“Your kind annoy me.”

“My kind? You mean women?”

“No.”

I wait for further explanation, but he doesn’t give any.

“Are you going to stare at me the whole way?”

My head jerks forward. “How uncouth of you to call me out on it. I was just …”

He makes a quick sidelong glance. “What? Scowling at me?”

“Wondering what girl pissed on your kale salad.”

“Oh, we’re back to this? You think I hate women. I like women just fine. Some more than others.”

“Some kinds more than others?”

Another amused purse of his lips. “Yes. I suppose that would be accurate.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Good for you.”

His indifference and perfect skin irritate me.

“I was valedictorian in high school.”

Jake drums his fingers on the top of the steering wheel a few times.

“I turned down a scholarship to the University of Illinois.” Drawing in a slow breath, I wait for his response.

No response.

“Did you go to college?”

“Nope.”

“Not even culinary school?”

“Nope.”

“Probably a good thing. Speech is usually a freshman requirement for most degrees, and you clearly would have failed that class.”

He takes the next exit and pulls off on the side of the road by a produce stand. “Let Swarley out, but be back in five or I’m leaving without you.”

I frown.

He winks.

Stupid wink. I hate winkers.

“Jake Matthews!”

Shooing Swarley toward the grass, I roll my eyes at the lady’s enthusiasm to see Mr. Anti-personality.

“Carley, you look younger every time I see you.” He hugs her, lifting her off the ground.

My gaze flits between Swarley and the flex of Jake’s muscles. All muscles. No brains. That’s what I tell myself to tame the itty-bitty part of me that physically reacts to him.

I’m done with men. Period.

“I just turned forty-five, but I feel better than I did at thirty-five. I like this.” Carley ruffles Jake’s thick, blond hair. “I bet all the girls like it.” She winks.

Great. Another winker.

“Whatcha got today?” He follows her to her produce stand.

“All the berries—blue, black, strawberry, and raspberry. I also have asparagus and red leaf lettuce.”

“Sold.” He pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket, shooting me a quick glance, eyes squinted against the sun.

I jerk my attention back to Swarley. “Oh, Swarley. No, no, no.”