“I should say, he’ll comeat some point,” I continued, rocking on my feet. “There’s a preseason game ontonight.”
“A…what?”
“Preseason. Football?” I added, when he continued to look confused. “Pats and Jacksonville. Joe’s a Patriots fan, but we like himanyway.”
Ev nodded, a little bewildered. “Okay.”
“You likefootball?”
“I… guess?” he said. He shook his head. “Listen, fascinating as this is,I…”
“You need to get off your injured knee,” I surmised. I reached out a hand toward him. “All the more reason to let me help you into thetruck.”
He stared at my hand for a second, and then his narrowed eyes met mine. He was trying to decide if he could trustme.
I snorted. “This isn’tCriminal Minds, and it’s sure as fuck notDeliverance. You hear anybanjos?”
Everett’s lips twitched reluctantly, and he shut his eyes for half a second. “No,” he admitted. He exhaled loudly. “Fine, let’sgo.”
When he set his palm in mine, I felt a rush of protectiveness that nearly bowled me over. I told myself it was because his fingers were icy and his hand felt so small in mine; because I felt bad I’d practically accosted him, and I was still horny from thehookupus interruptusearlier.
Still, I had the irrational desire to make him smile, full-on. To see what his face looked like when it wasunguarded.
“Remember that you’re in O’Leary,” I told him as I guided him to thedoor.
“Oh, I’m well aware.” His teeth were clenched like he was in pain, but it didn’t stop him from beingsnarky.
“So, when you’re considering a theme for the movie of your life, think less psychological thriller and more…Hallmark.”
“Like thecards?”
“Like themovies.”
Ev snorted. “Right.”
“No, seriously,” I told him. “White picket fences. Apple trees.PumpkinFestival.”
“Pumpkin Festival.” He blinked. “Notreally?”
“Oh, soveryreally,” I promised him, swinging the door open. “Foliage. Arts and crafts. Costumes. Jack-o-lanterns. Cable-knit sweaters. Hay rides. A disgusting and disproportionate number of happy couples.” I leaned in closer like I was imparting a secret, and caught the faint hint of his cologne, something citrusy and warm. “We have piecontests.”
“Eating or making?” he asked with narrowed eyes, like he was intrigued despitehimself.
I raised one eyebrow.“Both.”
“Yeah, well, I’m only here until the spring,” he said, waving a hand. “I will observe your strange rituals from adistance.”
I chuckled, charmed, as he climbed into the seat. “Be careful,” I warned. “You might just drink the Kool-Aid, too.” I tapped my chin and studied him thoughtfully. His curly hair was a dark, coal black that seemed to absorb the light from the truck, but his eyes were every bit as vibrant green as I’d thought. “I betcha you'll be calling this home byHalloween.”
“Ha! Nope. Pretty sure your wholesome little cult doesn’t include queer guys who voteliberal.”
I grinned. “Actually, pretty sure those are myfavoritekind ofguys.”
“You?” So damnsuspicious.
“O’Leary might surprise you, Everett,” I said with a wink. “Wait andsee.”
