“I’m fine. I paid attention when we drove to the ranch yesterday and came back to town today. I still have the urge to go on the left, though.”
“I wouldn’t advise it.”
“What’s the limit in town?”
“Twenty-five.” She stayed quiet as he navigated his way to the two-lane that would take them out to Rowdy Ranch. “The limit on this road is seventy in the daytime and sixty-five at night.”
He increased his speed to forty-five. “If I do seventy, you’ll be blown to bits.”
“But if we put up the windows we’ll be stuck with the smell.”
“I’ll keep it at forty-five for now and let this fella go ahead of us.” Thrusting his arm out the window, he waved the truck around. As it roared past, he glanced in the rearview mirror. “That’s it for now. Not much traffic on this road.”
“The McLintocks hope it’ll stay that way. As word gets out about M.R. Morrison, they want to keep the ranch’s location a secret.”
“Think they will?”
“It could be a challenge. Stephen King fans are wild to see his house and the iconic locations in Bangor, Maine. Those tours are always fully booked. I think Desiree’s a little worried about maintaining the family’s privacy.”
“Speaking of privacy….” He glanced over at her. “Have you copped to the opportunity we’ve been given?”
“You mean being alone in this car?”
“It’s more than that.”
“Hang on, mister. I like you a lot, but not enough to have back-seat sex in the boonies in the middle of the day.”
“We don’t need a back seat. Rance is at work.”
It took a second, but then she sucked in a breath and glanced at him. “I totally missed that.”
“Not only is he at work, so is everybody else.”
Her body began to tingle. “And my family’s in Missoula. We’re left to our own devices.”
“So we are.”
“Is that the real reason you didn’t want to go talk to Justine?”
He laughed. “It was, yeah.”
“Then why are you poking along at forty-five?”
“Didn’t want to blow you to bits.”
“Can I borrow your hat?”
“Sure.”
Scooping her hair into a high ponytail, she flipped it on top of her head and crammed on his hat. “Pedal to the metal, cowboy!”
With a whoop, he stomped on the gas and the little sedan shot forward.
She kept her hand on his precious hat so it wouldn’t fly out the window as they raced down the highway. Although she avoided looking at the speedometer, she kept an eye out for Smoky. “You’ll need to go way slower on the ranch road!” she called out over the rush of air through the open windows.
“Understood!” He flashed her a grin.
Oh, yeah, she loved this Irishman. She could hardly wait for him to take her in his arms. He’d promised to help her escape reality. And he was a man of his word.
