"I'm blaming the truck," she says, pushing up to examine my eyes. "I cannot be held responsible for my behavior during such an inappropriate, filthy encounter. This is your work vehicle, for heaven's sake."
Pulling her back against me, I drift my lips along the side of her throat. "Thank you for being my cheeky, adorable, fantasy girl."
I blast the heat for a few moments when I see goosebumps on her arms, and we awkwardly get dressed. Once we're driving to the edge of the property, I ask, "So, did you want to come over for dinner with Corbin?"
Stopping at the end of our private road, I'm surprised to see Uncle Lloyd's car on the main road. He's standing in front of another vehicle, where two men in gray suits are chatting to him through the window.
Turning to Bridget, I say, "I want you to meet my entire family, but I'm going to spare you the misery of meeting my Uncle Lloyd."
Bridget is already ducking down, her eyes huge. "I've seen him at Acorns. Who are the other guys?"
"I don't know." Her fingers are practically digging a trench in the seat as she hunches down as much as she can. There's definitely something wrong.
"It's okay," I whisper softly. "Do you want me to floor it out of here, or find out who they are?"
She hesitates, and I peer into the other vehicle. "The first one's Councilor Peterson. He's in charge of zoning or something."
"You're sure?"
I roll my eyes. "Very sure. He's a bastard. He let somebody build a condo that took out half a pond filled with birds and wildlife. These idiots just pay each other off until the law no longer applies to them. I know, it's worse in larger cities, but here in Oakton, there's only a handful, so I definitely know who they are."
"So you've seen him around town before?"
"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure the other one works at City Hall. One of Lloyd's cronies."
"Oh." She finally takes a breath. "Let's just go, then. Please."
Throwing the truck into gear, I drive past, just close enough to give Lloyd a hard stare that the other two men definitely notice.
Once we're a half mile away on the main road, I reach out to rub Bridget's shoulder as she straightens up. "What was that about?"
Her eyes don't meet mine, and she stares at her fingers twisting the strap of her purse. "Nothing. I should probably just get home."
Pulling over to the side of the road, I turn to take her hands. "Deep breath." She looks puzzled, so I give her hands a gentle shake. "I'm serious. Breathe all the way in." She does, her chest rising. "Be full of air. Then blow it out." Her chest and shoulders fall. "Be empty. Now a few more times. Full, empty."
Caressing her fingers gently, I watch as the deep breaths seem to relieve some of her stress. "Baby, you can tell me anything," I say softly. "If there's a problem, I only want to help."
She hesitates. "I don't… I mean, I want to, but…"
I can feel the tension in her hands, and her shoulders start to quiver again. "It's okay," I say quickly. "You don't have to tell me today. Maybe another time. Think about it. Yeah?"
She smiles softly. "You're very understanding." Then she straightens up, squeezing my hands as she shakes out her shoulders. "I'm good."
As we drive to her house, I begin singing softly, "My baby's got a secret, and that's okay. I know she's going to tell me somehow, someday." I reach out to grab her knee, and Bridget finally smiles.
"See? Everything is a country song. As soon as you get more comfortable playing guitar, we're going to be the best worst band ever."
Her adorable grin is served with a sassy flick of her left eyebrow. "So we're a band now?"
Pausing at a stop sign, I lean over to give her a slow, deep kiss. "Baby, we're already everything."
8
BRIDGET
After a busy day at work, I feel revved up, exhausted, and unsure.
I really want to see Dash tonight, yet I don't want to monopolize all of his time. He's just moved back home, and might need some time to settle in his new house, meet up with old friends, or even just rest.
