Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Her pinky joins the party as she continues. “You were so moody when I was doing you a favor back at the restaurant. And then there’s the side of the road when—”
“When what?”
“You were going to let the bears get me.” She sits so smugly on the other side of the bench with her arms crossed over her chest, not even bothering to give me the pleasure of her beautiful eyes. “There’s five for you, sport.”
Sport?
I don’t remember our conversations being so peculiar back in Austin, but I’m starting to believe this is hell, and I’m damned to it.
Reveling in her ingenuity that she thinks she has me all figured out, I just drive. She’s outplayed me on this one, so what more is there to say. She gets mad every time I open my mouth anyway. Considering what she did to ruin me, it’s an interesting take on our relationship.
I round the bend and look for her car, preferring to put my mind on things more tangible. I slow when my headlights cover the vehicle in light. “I didn’t take you for a Honda girl.”
“They’re reliable, and I need dependable transportation.” The defensiveness over a simple observation is a fascinating take. Yep, I can’t say a damn thing without her getting angry.
Trying to calm the mutiny beside me, I accept her words on the basis instead of delivery. “Fair enough.”
“I didn’t take you for someone who knew what a fuel pump was.”
I scratch my side to block the knife she tried to impale me with. Nice try. “I took shop in high school.”
“Private schools have car shops?”
She’s fiery, I’ll give her that, the name thing pushing a button she doesn’t want to activate. Her contentedness to throw it out and then walk away without a follow-up has me thinking she even knows she’s taken this too far.
No matter what, I’m not letting her get to me anymore. At least not on an empty stomach when I’m losing the mental energy to snap back. “I’m sure some do, but my public high school did.” I shift into park and pop the door open.
I circle the vehicle once before dipping into the driver’s seat. With one leg on the dirt, I ask, “Where’s the key fob?”
When she climbs out of the truck, her size gives me flashbacks of her in the kitchen. She’s smaller than expected, given the confidence that her mouth backs. Coming around, she hands the fob to me. Her nails barely scrape against my palm, causing me to look up into her eyes. Standing so close that her foot touches mine, she stares at me as if . . . as if . . . I matter to her. As if there’s a way for us that doesn’t lead in separate directions. Our eyes stay fixed as if the fire between us is stronger than her temper, which seems almost impossible.
She licks her lips and then tugs her sweater closed. Since she’s still in the dress from earlier, it’s safe to assume she’s cold. She looks away as if the connection is too much and then shivers. Would it be so wrong to want the cause to be the thrill of my presence?
“Are you going to try to start it?” she asks, her gaze aimed off into the distant darkness.
I clear my throat and turn back to the dashboard. “Try. The car will be fine here overnight, but just in case the weather turns, it’s good to close the window.” Glancing at the seat beside me, I find crumbs on the upholstery. “It will also keep the animals out.”
“Why do I feel like you’re judging me? It was a long drive to end up isolated from the rest of the world.”
“Funny. That’s why I came here. For the solitude.” I glance up at her. “You see how that’s working out for me.”
She laughs. “Swimmingly. At least the company is pretty great.”
Not moving when I stand, I come face-to-face with her or, more accurately, her face comes to my chest. “If you say so.” Peculiar but growing on me. I stand there another few seconds before she catches on and takes a few steps back.
“Please lock it.”
I press the lock and shut the door. “Do you always have to control everything?”
The question causes her head to jerk back. “I was just reminding you is all. Do you always have to be so, so . . .” She clamps her mouth closed and rolls her eyes when she passes me to walk around to the other side of the truck.
I’d ask what she wanted to call me, but I’m not upset with silence for the rest of this trip.
She must be as well because I don’t hear another peep out of her until I park the truck. When I cut the engine, neither of us moves to get out. I stare at the cabin, and she stares out toward the lake. After a sigh I know I’m meant to hear, she opens the door. “Well . . .” She pauses to hop out. “Thanks for letting me stay here. I was thinking I could have someone come get me tomorrow.”