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question she’d been dreading. She pretended to think it over. “Unfortunately, there aren’t any really big cities between Denver and Kansas City. I guess Kansas City would be fine.”
    He shot her a who-do-you-think-you’re-kidding look. “I was thinking more along the lines of the next decent-size truck stop.”
    She swallowed hard. “Except you’re obviously a people person, and you’ll be bored without company. I’ll keep you entertained.”
    His eyes flicked to her breasts. “Exactly how do you intend to do that?”
    “Car games,” she said quickly. “I know dozens.” He snorted, and she hurried on. “I’m also an excellent conversationalist, and I can run interference with your fans. I’ll keep all those yucky women from throwing themselves at you.”
    His blue-gray eyes flickered, but whether from irritation or amusement, she didn’t know. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
     
     
     
    Somewhat to Dean’s surprise, the Beav was still in his car that night as he exited the interstate somewhere in west Kansas and drove toward a sign for the Merry Time Inn. She stirred as he pulled into the parking lot. While she’d slept, he’d had more than ample time to study the rise and fall of her breasts underneath her muscle shirt.Most of the women he spent time with had pumped themselves up to four times their normal size, but not the Beav. He knew some guys liked overinflated breasts—hell, he used to like them—but Annabelle Granger Champion had long ago spoiled his fun.
    “Every time a man like you ogles a woman with artificial E cups, you encourage some innocent girl with perfectly nice breasts to go under the knife. Women should concentrate on expanding their horizons, not their busts.”
    She’d made him feel personally responsible for the evils of breast enlargement, but Annabelle was like that. She had a lot of strong opinions, and she didn’t pull her punches. Annabelle was his one true female friend, but between her marriage to Heath Champion, his bloodsucker of an agent, and the birth of her second child, she didn’t have much time to hang out anymore.
    He’d been thinking about Annabelle a lot today, maybe because the Beav had strong opinions, too, and she also didn’t seem interested in impressing him. It was odd being with a woman who wasn’t coming on to him. Of course, he had told her he was gay, but she’d figured out that was bullshit at least a hundred miles ago. Still, she’d kept trying to play him. But Little Bo Peep was way out of her league.
    Her mouth froze in midyawn as she spotted the well-lit three-story hotel. As many times as she’d aggravated him today, he still wasn’t quite ready to hand her a couple hundred bucks and throw her out. For one thing, he wanted her to ask him for the money. For another, she’d been good company today. And then there was the hard-on that had been plaguing him for the past two hundred miles.
    He turned in to the parking lot. “These places will take most any credit card.” He should have felt like a bully, but she was so full of tough talk and swagger that he didn’t.
    Her lips compressed. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a credit card.”
    No big surprise there.
    “I abused the privilege a few years ago,” she went on, “and haven’ttrusted myself since.” She studied the Merry Time Inn sign. “What are you going to do about your car?”
    “Tip the security guy to watch it.”
    “How much?”
    “Why do you care?”
    “I’m an artist. I’m interested in human behavior.”
    He pulled into a parking space. “Fifty dollars now, I guess. Another fifty in the morning.”
    “Excellent.” She held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
    “You’re not watching my car tonight.”
    The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed. “Sure I am. Don’t worry. I’m a light sleeper. I’ll wake up the minute anybody gets too close.”
    “You’re not sleeping in it, either.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re one