Do you know what? If he did that, he could take my ovaries, too. Lord only knew they’d be no good to me after they’d exploded.

“Hey,” he said, grinning.

I swallowed, a tiny smile forming on my lips. “Hey.”

“You look beautiful, love.”

I blushed. Goddamn it. Was there a pill I could take to stop that? “Thank you. You look handsome yourself.”

“I should hope so. This haircut cost me thirty dollars.”

“Yikes. Where did you go? Back to New York?”

“Funny.” He half-smiled. “The only place that was open was some place that was expensive, so I had no choice.”

“Shall we go?”

“So I can bitch more about my expensive haircut in the car?”

“If you want. I think we’re over the getting-to-know-you phase. I think we can go straight to our grievances.” I stepped outside and pulled the door shut, then locked it.

Isaac took my hand once I’d returned my keys to my purse. “That seems like a good way to get this date started. Complain about all the things we hate.”

“Hey, if we have some in common, we can complain together.”

“Looking on the bright side.” We stopped at the car and he smiled. “Always a plus.”

I smiled as he opened the door for me and kept hold of my hand until I was safely inside. He was a real gentleman, and while I liked to think of myself as an independent woman, I was still a swooner at heart.

I clicked my seat belt into place while he got in the other side of the car.

“So what are your pet hates?” he asked, pulling away from the curb when he was ready. “Your top three?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Eating with your mouth open, dry skin, and Twitter.”

“Twitter?” His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Why Twitter?”

“It’s a little cesspit of angry people,” I replied. “There’s some funny stuff there, sure, but it’s mostly just a bunch of strangers arguing about politics. I don’t have time for that.”

“Politics? Or the arguing?”

“The arguing. I do enough of that with my TV where politics are concerned.”

“Was that you yelling at the government last week?”

“It sure was. Those bastards weren’t listening to me.”

Isaac choked back a laugh. “That’s… interesting.”

“What? Men can spend every weekend for six months yelling at their sports team, but I can’t yell at the government?” I raised an eyebrow. “My taxes pay their wages, you know.”

“When you put it like that… it’s hard to argue with.”

“I know. Why do you think I put it like that?”

He laughed this time and pulled into the parking lot of one of my favorite restaurants in town. I frowned at him slightly, giving him my best side-eye.

He looked at me slightly sheepishly. “I asked Immy?”

“Of course you did.” I couldn’t help but grin at him. Jesus, it was like my mouth only had one setting around him.

Smiling like a loon.