“No.” The tips of her lips curled. “I can totally win at Pac-Man” She stepped forward, taking her place in front of the joystick, and I pressed the start button. I’d played this game so many hours, I could play it with one eye—while I kept the other on her. It didn’t take her long to replace the straight-brow expression she normally wore with a new expression with uplifted brows which brightened her whole face.
Even though she died right away, she laughed and eagerly accepted another turn. When she died the second time, her smile broadened, and laughter funneled out joyfully. “Okay, maybe I exaggerated, and I can’t win.”
“Ah.” I switched the machine off, and backed away, “It’s not about winning anyway.” I tossed a shoulder up, adding, “Something to do.” I suddenly remembered it was way past midnight, and she was standing in the middle of my garage, look like a wet hen, and I returned to my manners. “Let’s get you inside, so you can warm up.” I walked ahead, and she was right on my heels as I went through the door.
“You better go sit by the fire.” I motioned to my favorite chair with the fire still roaring next to it. “I can grab you a dry t-shirt.” I left to go down the hall to the laundry room and grabbed one of my shirts from the dryer. It had gotten a little wrinkled from sitting there for a few days, but I shook it. It didn’t really help the wrinkles but I figured it had to be better than what she had.
When I returned, she was sitting on the fireplace hearth, leaving the chair open. I wanted to tell her how stupid she was for testing that storm, but I figured she already had to know. So instead, I looked at her and grinned, pretending she didn’t get my goose. “I don’t have any groceries or anythin’ because I don’t cook, or ever have company over, but I can get you something to drink.”
“It’s okay.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m fine sitting here.”
I set the shirt down next to her and peered out the window, noticing the wind hadn’t let up at all, if anything it was only hollerin’ louder. “It’s a good thing we got back when we did. It’s ugly out.”
Her eyes steadied on the fire, as if she was avoiding looking at me.
“I don’t mean to be harsh, but is there a reason you had to be so stubborn about this oil thing?” I asked with a light-hearted chuckle. “It isn’t a good reason to catch your death out there.”
Although she kept her gaze at the fire, I caught a glistening off her eyes. She spoke in a softer voice, like she was reading a fairy tale. “It seems silly, and I don’t expect you to understand, but it’s something I do for Poppy. There’s evidence autism is caused by environmental factors and it’s one thing I have control over.”
I hiked a brow. “Trying to get killed?”
Her face turned down, signaling she was withdrawing from the conversation, but she did eventually add, “I don’t think there is anything wrong with having a cleaner planet.”
I shrugged, kinda seeing her point. “I mean, I agree there isn’t any harm in cleaning up the place before we leave, but I also don’t think modern civilization would be better off without oil. Maybe someday we will get to that point, but you gotta admit, it would have been a lot cooler if I’d rescued you in my pickup truck, or shoot, one of my sports cars.”
The corners of her mouth bent up a tiny bit. “I guess that would have been a lot nicer, but I appreciate you showed up at all.” With eyes fixed on her fingernails. She picked on them like it was an Olympic sport. “Thank you.”
Her words floated out and hung in the air, and just to get a rise out of her, I teased, “You already said thank you when you kissed me.”
Her cheeks instantly blushed. “Clarification.” She held up her arguing finger. “I kissed your cheek. Not the same as kissing you.”
Maybe I liked poking the bear? I decided to poke a little more. “Can you stop shredding your nails before you bleed out all over my floor? One near-death experience for the night is enough for me.”
She laughed. Not one of those polite little giggles, but a genuine full belly laugh, and her gaze rose and attached to mine.
I wasn’t sure what to think about that.
I wasn’t an expert in females, but those were flirtin’ eyes.
It wasn’t the first time I had a woman look at me like that, but it was the first time I saw that expression from Cloverbud.
Those were the kind of looks that got me into trouble.
I pulled at the collar on my t-shirt as the temperature in the room seemed to heat up a few degrees.
Then she did it.
The look away, acting all cute. Like she didn’t know what she was doing.
She was as pretty as a peach sitting there next to the fire. Her whole profile was lit up in a glow like she was something extraterrestrial. An angel, perhaps? Even though none of the angels I ever read up on had nose rings. I reckoned it could serve as a modern version of a halo.
“I think you were a little bit right.”
“Ah,” I deadpanned even though I liked the sound of that phrase, the softness etched in her words put my heart on alert.
“About the oil thing,” she went on. “I took everything so personally because I’ve worked for a decade trying to get companies to be greener, and it’s been a long road. I hated to hear that maybe it was for nothing.”
“Well, it’s not for nothin’. But these sorts of things take time.” I thought we were done talking because it was getting awfully late. My guess was she was delirious, but she took the conversation in a different direction—one that slapped the sweat right on my back.
