“My phone’s dead,” I explained. “But even if it wasn’t, it’s too old for the app, and my brother can’t pick me up. He’s still at the station.” Why did I feel the need to offer so much information?
“Station? Like a train station?”
“No.”
Mack frowned. “As in police station?”
Crap!
I bit my lip. “Will you please let me by? You’re making me nervous and all I want to do is call someone to pick me up and take me home.”
“I’ll take you home,” Booker said as he walked back inside, a scowl on his face directed at “big biker man” in front of me. “And get the hell away from her, Mack. You can see she’s freaked.”
“Did she tell you her brother’s a cop?” Mack demanded.
“Detective, actually,” I corrected and then dropped my head. I needed to shut the hell up.
“Move the hell away from her,” Booker repeated. I took a minute to look at him and his expression was a little scary. He gave his friend a look like he would kill him if he didn’t do as he said. Instead of making me nervous, it made me feel protected. Another clear indication there was something inherently wrong with me.
Mack grinned, raising his hands in surrender as he stepped away from me. I skittered around the desk and back out in the open, keeping my purse in front of me... for what I’m not sure. I just felt a little protected somehow.
“Come on. I’ll take you home,” Booker said.
“No, it’s okay. If you can just call me a cab, it’ll be fine.”
Booker shook his head. “We’re closed, darlin’, and it’ll take a while for a taxi, so let me just take you home.”
I swallowed.
“What?” he asked.
I glanced at Mack and then back at Booker. “Um... aren’t bikes really dangerous?”
Booker seemed to share another secret look with Mack before they both burst out laughing.
I pulled my purse closer. “Well, if you’re going to stand there and laugh at me, then I definitely want to call a cab.”
Apparently, I’m freaking hilarious when I’m scared out of my ever-blessed mind, because Mack laughed harder.
“I’ve got my truck,” Booker said, once he’d sobered.
“With or without a shovel and a tarp in the back?”
Booker frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” I figured if he was going to murder me there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot I could do about it at this point. “Yes, a ride home would be much appreciated.”
Booker nodded and waved his hand toward the roll-up door.
“Nice to meet you,” I said to Mack, and headed outside.
“You too, babe,” Mack said to my back.
Booker led me to his Ford F-150, and I turned to face him. “Can I borrow your phone please?”
“What?”
“Your phone. May I borrow it for a second?”
