“Well, this is a small town,” I reply. “Nothing bad ever happens in Alpine Falls, everyone knows everyone.”Except, I don’t know you.
“Still, I’d feel better waitin’ with you for the Uber if you don’t want a ride.”
I assess him one more time. I don’t get any weird, murderer vibes, and I’ll text Sadie to let her know he’s driving me home. And again when I get there.
“You’re just full of southern charm, aren’t you,Cowboy?”
Is it just me, or do his eyes darken when I say that?
The chemistry between us is off the charts, and every now and then, I get a little waft of his cologne—it’s warm and spicy with a hint of sandalwood, or something. If they could wrap sexual tension up in a bottle, this would be it. And frankly? It’s been a good year since I had a roll in the hay. Not because I don’t know how to have a good time, I’ve just been busy. I’ve put my workload and my friends first. Sadie needed me in her time of crisis, and it’s actually been nice not having boy troubles this last year.
Sitting this close to Brett has made me realize how much I’ve missed a man’s touch. And my, what big hands he has. I can only imagine what he could do with them.
He grins, his pretty eyes lighting up. “Nope. Just bein’ a gentleman.”
I suddenly wonder what he’s like when he’s not being agentleman.
“Fine. I’ll let you drive me home if it’s not too out of your way. My ranch is called Cedar Hollow, just off the main track between the Lawless Farms.”
“Everything is either Alpine or Cedar around here,” he chuckles.
“That’s because of the trees,” I explain. “My cabin is made from Western Red Cedar. It’s not much, but I love it. It’s quiet. Surrounded by mountains and valleys. No neighbors for as far as the eye can see, and the backdrop at sundown is like something out of—”What the fuck am I doing?
I don’t describe goddamn sunsets like I’m Anne of Green fucking Gables. I blame the White Russian. All its fault, not mine.
He raises a brow. “Out of what?”
I clear my throat. “Uh, Yellow Stone, without the guns and violence.” I pull my bag onto my shoulder.
He stands first, then his hand is on the back of my chair. “Ladies first.”
Yep, gotta visit Nashville someday, the men are very polite.
I slide off the stool. “Uh, thanks.” He lets me go ahead of him and I make my way to the door.
“If you want, I could drive your truck for you, then Uber back to get mine. Save you a job in the mornin’.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say. He is way too nice. Something must be wrong with him.
I don’t know why I wave self imposed red flags when there aren’t any. I just have a suspicious mind. When you’ve been cheated on more than once, that isn’t something a girl forgets in a hurry.
“It’s no problem, truly.”
Once outside, I pull my thin jacket around my shoulders. It’s cooler than I thought tonight. A few moments later, I feel movement behind me. When I turn, Brett is placing his jacket over my shoulders.Nope, no way.
“Uh, thanks.” I point to my blue, beat-up ‘63 Chevy. Exactly like the one in the Twilight movies, except for the color. She’s old, but she’s sturdy. Plus, I don’t really go anywhere that requires me to get myself into debt for a shiny new toy. “This is me.”
Brett doesn’t do what other people have done in the past when he sees my truck. Usually, it’s some comment about if my truck should be in a museum or on the scrap heap. It’s then I let said person know this truck has withstood every snowstorm from here to Colorado, sub-below temperatures, blowouts, moose collisions, and skating on the ice. Yep, trusty old Bessie has done it all.
“She’s a beauty.”
I balk, waiting for the punchline but it never comes. “Bessy has been with me since I could learn to drive.”
“Bessy,” he says, a smile on his lips. “Now I know I’m in a small town.”
“Speaking of which, I’m just texting Sadie to let her know you’re driving me, and then when I get home safely. So if you try anything funny, just know I carry a gun and I have mace spray in my purse.”
He blinks in surprise as he opens the passenger door. Yeah, my doors don’t lock anymore.
