He flashed her a bright white smile, as if he’d been waiting for her the entire time.
“Well, gorgeous, what are you waiting for? Get in.”
“But I didn’t order a Share Ryde. This is my Ryde,” Lizzie declared. She didn’t care how gorgeous he was; she wasn’t going to let him steal her car.
His eyebrow was quirked up, asking an unspoken question as his dark gaze swept her up and down, lingering a beat on her Boy Toy belt. Normally she’d hate this kind of attention, but tonight—Halloween—she welcomed it. His lopsided, cocky grin told her he liked what he saw. Well, the feeling is mutual…Maverick. She was so distracted by the handsome stranger that she almost forgot that he was an interloper in her Ryde.
“Is it?” his sensual, full lips seemed to be suppressing a laugh. “Are you sure about that?”
She glanced at the front seat, where the Ryde driver, a long-haired hippie-type, with a scraggly beard and an armful of tattoos, grinned from the front seat. “Hey, you know her, Mav?” the driver asked.
“You’re Garrett, right? Ryde? Black Lincoln?” She held up her phone as if it were proof that this was indeed her car.
The driver slowly shook his head. “Nope. Sorry, miss. I’m Paul. You’re in the wrong car.”
“Wrong…car?” Lizzie glanced at her screen and saw her actual Ryde driving away. Ride canceled! popped up on her screen. “Wait… What?” She tapped the screen, but it was no use. The driver had come and gone, or never come at all. That meant, at this rate, that she’d never make it to the Halloween party. “No. I…” She held up her screen in protest. “I ordered a Ryde, but…”
“Why don’t you just get in? I’m afraid that corset might not hold for much longer.” He grinned and Lizzie realized then that she was leaning into the back seat, spilling out of her costume and showing Maverick pretty much everything. Her cheeks grew hot as she slid into the car.
“Where are you headed?” Maverick asked her, voice smooth and sweet, warming her from the inside like a hot mocha.
“Cherry Creek. Friend’s party,” she said. She glanced at his tanned forearm, which was hovering mere millimeters from her knee.
His face registered surprise. “Well, I’m headed to Glendale. Not too far from there.” He smiled, bright white and blinding. He made Tom Cruise look…well, meh. Was this guy an actor? A model at least. Had to be. Guys who looked like him were never interested in girls who looked like her—correction, girls who looked the way she did on most days of the year. Normally she didn’t nearly flash strangers. She tugged at the edges of her corset, trying to get it back into place. She had to remind herself that today wasn’t a normal day. Not in the slightest.
He leaned forward and his elbow grazed her arm. She nearly jumped from the contact, warm, strong and promising.
“How about we share the car?” he offered, voice low. “That is, if you’re up for it, Material Girl.”
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