“Do I look like a commitment sort of girl to you?”
“You look like trouble,” he grinned. “When I was growing up, my mother used to tell me to never trust a redhead.”
I frowned. “There are only two reasons she’d say something like that.” Caleb raised his eyebrows. “And they are?”
“Your father either slept with one, or she is one.”
I buzzed under his crooked smile. It extended all the way to his eyes this time.
“I like you,” he said.
“That’s swell, Boy Scout. Real swell.”
―
Tarryn Fisher,
Dirty Red