“Relax, Queen Naomi,” he said. “I’m not gonna bite.”
Naomi’s fingers curled into her palms, and her heart raced. Queen Naomi? What did that mean?
The nickname was the least of her concerns at the moment.
He could kill her out here, and no one would be around to witness it. Or he could kidnap her or do other terrible things.
She had to stay strong.
She glared up at him. “I said back up.”
He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering a little too long in places it shouldn’t before he finally met her gaze again. “You always look like you’re bracing for something—and it’s not a royal coronation.”
He was baiting her. She knew that.
But she couldn’t let him get to her.
She raised her chin, questions stabbing her thoughts. “How did you know I was coming up the road? Did you see me head into town earlier? Were you just waiting here for hours for me to come by again so you could trap me out here with no one else around?”
Satisfaction stretched through his gaze.
She shivered.
“Hey, now . . . you’re reading a little too much into this, aren’t you?” Travis’s gaze flicked to her SUV and back, then he shrugged. “Not many people use this road. Mostly just my family . . . and yours.” He paused before staring her dead in the eye. “Should just be my family.”
Her stomach tightened.
Travis and his family lost their land when they weren’t able to pay the property taxes. Naomi’s older sister, Sarah, and her husband had purchased nearly three hundred acres in the government-sponsored sale.
Sarah had, however, insisted the Hendersons keep their home. She’d given the family a parcel of land, with no strings attached. It had been a kind gesture, one she hadn’t been obligated to make. She’d done so out of the goodness of her heart.
But the Hendersons had never forgiven the Kings for taking their property, and they were determined to make Naomi and the rest of her family miserable.
Travis leaned toward the back of her SUV, peering at the bumper. “Barely a scratch.”
Barely a scratch? She would beg to differ.
“That’s what you get when you drive something built to take a hit,” Travis continued. “Vehicles like yours are just asking for it.”
Just asking for it?
The tension across her back pulled tighter. “I’m calling the sheriff to file a report. I’ll need it for insurance.”
“Sheriff Sutherland?” Travis raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I bet you do want to talk to him.”
The way he said it made her skin crawl.
What did he even mean?
She took a step back, the hair on her neck rising.
Travis inched closer, matching her stride without breaking eye contact. “Too bad there’s no cell service out here. Besides, I don’t have insurance, so I’m not going to be much help. Let’s face it—insurance is a scam anyway. I’d say I’d pay for your damages, but let’s not kid ourselves. I ain’t got no money for repairs.” He paused. “Maybe we can discuss other means of me paying you back . . .”
She had no idea what he meant by that, and she didn’t want to find out.
“You know . . .” Travis lowered his voice. “It’s funny how things work out. Your family swoops in, takes land that doesn’t belong to them, and suddenly you’re acting like you’re so important around town. Like you’re royalty.”
So important? Royalty? Why would he say such a thing?
