We should get the check. Honestly, I need to head out too."
Nick gestured to the waiter who quickly walked by and dropped off the check. He picked up the faux-leather billfold.
"You're not mad?" Nick asked.
Micky smirked. "Not if you're picking up the check."
"Women. Always wanting me for my money."
"I've never wanted a man for his money a day in my life. Besides, I can only imagine what you want from me."
Nick stilled. No, she couldn't. He couldn't even decide what he wanted from her. Micky's brows came together as he sat silent, his conscience dogging him again.
"Seriously, though, I can't let you pay for all that we ate and drank all afternoon. That would just be embarrassing," she said, reaching for the check.
"Of course, you can."
"Fine. I had to try at least—even if I'm reaching for the check with T-Rex arms."
Nick watched as Micky held her elbows close to her body while flailing her hands ineffectually toward the bill. Then, she threw her head back and laughed.
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