“Don’t start. It’s my turn to drive.” She held out her hand, palm up, and nearly choked as he passed over the keys without arguing.

“I understand,” he said. “You need to assert your masculinity.”

He’d scored way too many verbal hits today, but she was so entranced with the idea of driving the Vanquish that she let this one pass.

The car performed like a dream. She’d watched him maneuver the paddles on the transmission, and he only winced a couple of times before she got the hang of shifting gears. “Head for town,” he said as they reached the highway. “Before we eat, I want to pay an unfriendly call on Nita Garrison.”

“Now?”

“You don’t seriously believe I’m going to let her get away with this? Not my style, Bluebell.”

“I could be missing something, but I don’t think I’m exactly the best person to go see Nita Garrison with you.”

“Which is why you’re waiting in the car while I charm the old bat.” Without warning, he reached over and started playing with her earlobe. Her ears were incredibly sensitive, and she nearly drove off the road. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him to keep his hands to himself, he slipped something into the tiny hole. She glanced into the rearview mirror. A purple droplet winked at her.

“It’s all in the accessories,” he said. “I’ll do the other one when we stop.”

“You bought earrings for me?”

“Had to. I was afraid you’d show up wearing lug nuts.”

Suddenly, she had her own fashion stylist, and it wasn’t April. She wondered if he saw the connection. His contradictions added to her fascination. A man with such over-the-top masculinity shouldn’t love beautiful things so much. He should only love sweaty things. She hated when people refused to fit into pigeonholes. It made life murky.

“Unfortunately, those aren’t real stones,” he said. “My shopping options were limited.”

Real or not, she loved them.

Nita Garrison’s stately home sat on a shady street two blocks from the downtown area. Built of the same tan crab orchard stone as the bank and the Catholic church, it had a low, hipped roof and a formidable, Italianate facade. Stone pediments topped nine large, double-hung windows—four on the ground floor and five above, with the one in the middle wider than the rest. The grounds were almost too well maintained, with severely delineated beds of ruthlessly trimmed shrubbery.

Blue pulled up in front. “Cozy as a penitentiary.”

“I stopped by earlier, but she wasn’t home.” His arm brushed the back of her neck and his opposite thumb grazed her cheek as he slipped the other earring in her lobe. She shivered. It felt more intimate than sex. She forced herself to break the spell. “I’ll share if you want to wear them for part of the evening.”