"You were not. Isawyou."
Her outrage was adorable, and I couldn't help but smile. "Not soon enough."
She didn't smile back. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Wasn't it obvious?"You almost hit me."
Her voice rose. "Yeah, because you were standing in the middle of the freaking road."
This again?"Not standing.Crouching, like I said."
Her jaw flexed as she gritted out, "I saw what I saw."
I shrugged. "Eh, maybe."
"Maybe how?"
"You must've caught me on the upswing. Crouching first, standing second. And you already know the third part."
"What third part?"
"You almost running me over."
"Which wasyourfault, not mine. And why would you be 'crouching,' anyway?"
I held up my cellphone. "Because I droppedthis."
When her only reply was a confused stare, I hitched a thumb behind me, indicating the horse and buggy waiting a few dozen paces away. "Fromthat."
Her brow wrinkled. "So you're blaming the horse?"
I was no cowboy. Like a regular tourist, I'd been chilling in the buggy. "Did Imentiona horse?"
"No," she grudgingly admitted.
I gave another shrug. "Well, there ya go."
She was still fuming – looking entirely too pretty for her own good. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were bright. And her lips were parted like she couldn't decide whether to keep breathing or chew my face off.
But what really got me was her hair, windblown and tousled like she'd just rolled out of bed – and not from sleeping.
As the silence stretched out, I had a sudden urge to thank her for the near-death experience.
But then she ruined it by asking in a snippy sort of way, "Were youfollowingme?"
What?I let out a scoff. "Hey,Iwas here first."
Just then, a pack of bicycles shot past, barely missing us on either side. One of the riders – a big guy with a long, bushy beard – yelled back over his shoulder, "Hey! Get outta the road!"
I turned to my wheeled assassin. "I think he was talking to you."
She glanced down and gave a little start, as if suddenly realizing that she too was begging to be roadkill. She was technically on a bike, sure, but she wasn't exactly moving.
Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she lifted a foot to the nearest pedal like she was about to ride away. But then, with a little huff, she got off the bike and walked it to the side of the road. She kicked down the stand to keep it upright and turned to me with a no-nonsense look. "Well?"
I stayed put. "Well what?"
"You never answered my question." But when I opened my mouth to reply, she held up a finger. "Wait. First, get out of the road."
