She swallowed hard, begging her beating heart to slow.
Hadthere been someone in the trees? She’d said no, but she thought she’d heard someone. And yes, it could have been a wild animal. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself it was an animal because the idea of Colt being right, that his fatherhadfollowed her out there, made a chill sweep over her skin.
She pulled into her driveway and her gaze went straight to Colt in her rearview mirror. He was already out of his car, his shoulders bunched, jaw clearly tense.
The guy looked every bit the former spec ops soldier he was. And he looked angry.
He came to her door. When he opened it, the hinge groaned. “We’re getting rid of this pile of metal.”
“No,I’mgetting rid of it.” She reached behind her for her camera bag and climbed out, rain dribbling on her shoulders. “But until I do, thispile of metal, as you put it, is perfectly capable of getting me from point A to point B.”
Was it nearing the end of its life? Yes. But it was still getting her places.
He took the camera bag from her hold. “What if you finish a shoot in the mountains—it’s dark, wet, you have no signal, and your car stops working?”
Talk about worst-case scenarios. But…it was true. “A lot of things would have to go wrong for that to happen.”
“Yeah. A lotcouldgo wrong.”
She slotted her key into her door and stepped inside. “I’ll get a new car soon.”
Colt set the camera bag onto the hall table. “Why isn’t your heat on?” he asked, obviously noting how cold it was in the house.
“I don’t leave it on when I’m not home.”
“You used to. If I recall correctly, you said you keep the heat on so that the house feels like a warm hug when you get home.”
Oh God, shehadsaid that. “I guess with maturity comes the knowledge that I was just throwing money out the window.”
His brows lowered, and he did that thing where he studied her far too closely.
Crap.
She quickly walked to the linen closet off the hall and grabbed two towels before handing one to Colt.
“Thanks.” His deep rumble of a voice rippled over her skin. “Are you okay?”
She stopped at the kitchen counter and used the towel to dry her arms and face. Her clothes were damp, and yeah, she was wishing she’d kept the heat on. “I’m fine.”
“Not convincing, Cricket.”
He closed the space between them until he was close. Too close.
She crossed to the fridge and opened the door, then pulled out bottles of water. When she turned, it was to find Colt not looking ather. He was looking at the now closed refrigerator doors.
He switched his attention back to her. “You have hardly any food.”
Double crap.
His frown deepened. “You sold your car and bought something that barely runs. You don’t leave the heat on because you’re worried about the bill. You have almost no food in your house, and you haven’t been doing many photo shoots. You’re having money problems.”
“I’m fine.” The words were a reflex. She moved to step past him, but he gripped her arm.
“Cricket, you have money in our shared accounts. Use it.”
“No.”
Frustration cut across his expression. “Why?”
