Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“You,” I muttered.
“You,” she responded, sounding aghast.
I bit back my question, asking where the hubby was. Instead, I swallowed.
“Need some help?”
“I can figure it out, thanks,” she replied, sounding stiff and turning her back on me.
I watched her as she unsuccessfully tried to loosen the lug nuts. With a shake of my head, I went to my truck, grabbed the right tools, a can of WD-40, and returned.
“You’ll be at that all day,” I said.
“I’ve got it,” she snapped.
“Yep. Looks like it. Don’t be so stubborn.”
When she ignored me, still trying to loosen the lug nuts, I bent and bodily lifted her out of the way, grasping her waist and moving her to the side.
“Hey,” she protested.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have a sick kid you need to get home to?”
I bent down, spraying the rusty lug nuts and fitting the tire iron in place. “Or is hubs more the caregiver than you?” I added, my voice bitter.
She muttered something, but I ignored her, getting the lug nuts off and, with some effort, pulling the tire away from the wheel.
Quinn had managed to get the spare out, and I made short work of putting it in place and tightening the bolts. I tossed the flat in the hatch and turned to her.
“You shouldn’t be driving on those tires. They need replacing. It could be dangerous. You’re lucky it was just a flat.” I warmed up to my argument. “Your city-slicker husband should be taking better care. Not letting you wander in a strange place alone. Letting you drive on bald tires. What if your kid had been in the car?”
She stepped closer, fury etched on her face. “First off, jackass, the tires are being replaced next week. Second, there is no husband. Why the hell would you jump to that conclusion? You think I’m the kind of woman who would flirt with a stranger if she was married?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I snapped, even as I felt a strange sense of relief at the information she shared.
“It would be for me, you jerk.”
Before I could respond, she glared and stepped back, no doubt to walk away. Except she slipped on the gravel and her leg jerked, her foot catching me on the shin. Between my jeans and lack of power behind the movement, it was like being bumped with a hard cushion. Her eyes grew round with horror, upset, no doubt, at the involuntary smack. Unable to stop myself, I grinned, which only seemed to fuel her fury. And for some reason, it made me want to make her angrier.
“Is that the best you got, sunshine? Try putting a little muscle behind it next time.”
“It was an accident, but if I get the chance, I will.” She glared at me. “You deserve a good, swift kick in the butt for your attitude.”
“Well, given the way you kick, I won’t change much.”
“I don’t think you can change, you grump.”
For some reason, her words made me want to smile. Laura called me a grump all the time.
“For the right reason, maybe I could.”
She rolled her eyes and began to walk away then turned around. “For the record, I am a single mother. The voice you heard on the phone was my friend’s husband calling to tell me that Abby had woken up with a fever. His wife was looking after her, so he called.” She shook her head. “But you didn’t wait around to find that out, did you? You heard daughter and immediately assumed the worst.” She slammed her hands on her hips. “Or was it simply hearing that I had a child that changed your mind? I know men hate knowing they wouldn’t be number one in the relationship,” she said scathingly.
“I like kids. What I don’t like are cheaters.”
“Then take up with my ex. And shame on you for assuming I was the one cheating.”
I glared, the words out before I could stop them. “It’s happened before,” I growled.
“I’m not that sort of woman.” She spun on her heel and stormed away. Her door slammed, and the gravel kicked up stones as she hit the gas, driving away in a cloud of dust.
I watched her go, feeling oddly unsettled. She was correct—I had jumped to conclusions when I heard the male tone of the call and then she said the word daughter. I never thought of any other possibility except I was being played again.
And now I was standing on the side of the road, unsure what to do next.
I sighed and headed to my truck.
It wasn’t something I had to worry about. She was only visiting, and the chances of a third encounter were slim.
Right?
Cody finished off his second plate of spaghetti, draining his glass of milk, and wiping his mouth. I couldn’t blame the kid. Laura made great spaghetti, and I had eaten three large plates myself.