“Okay,” she conceded. “You caught me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“You caught me,” she repeated, voice all mock-serious as she sighed with a shrug. “Iamhiding something.”
I crossed my arms, not amused. “Okay, let’s have it then.”
She took a deep breath, dropped her gaze to the ground, then slowly lifted it to meet mine like she was about to confess to something serious.
“I’m on the run,” she said, completely straight-faced. “I was a waitress in a small-town diner, bored out of my mind. But then I met a guy who instantly became my ticket to excitement. We started small, robbing gas stations, and then moved on to banks?—”
“Jesus,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face. “You aresucha little liar.”
She laughed and gave me a smug glare. “It’s the truth.”
“It’s Bonnie and Clyde. I’m not some stupid hillbilly.”
I turned and walked back to the barn, shaking my head. But she was clearly amused with herself and, unfortunately, still right behind me.
“Okay, okay,” she said, still going. “How about this then? My best friend and I took a weekend fishing trip and stopped at a country bar. Some drunk guy tried to assault her, so I shot him dead in the parking lot. We panicked and ran for Mexico?—”
I spun around, cutting her off again. “Stop pitching me movie plots.”
“What, no points for creativity?” she asked, brows raised.
“You wanna play games, fine. Do it on someone else’s time.”
“Boy, you’re a poor sport,” she muttered. “Good at dishing it out, but you can’t take it.”
I ignored her and grabbed a shovel, heading into the horse stall.
“Youcouldgo finish your chores instead of bothering me,” I called over my shoulder. “You’re supposed to be working for that room you’re staying in.”
“I was only asked to collect eggs,” she said matter-of-factly. “And since you already did that for me?—”
“Go find someone else to harass. I’m sure my mom or Norah could put you to work.”
“They went to the store a little while ago,” she said, sounding way too pleased. “So, it looks like you’re stuck with me.”
I stopped mid-shovel and turned to look at her. She was leaning in the barn doorway now, clearly enjoying this way too much.
Why did she have to be so damn irritating and so…distracting?
I crossed the alley, shovel still in hand, and stood directly in front of her. She froze, back pressed against the barn wall, eyes wide like she wasn’t sure if I was going to kiss her or kick her out.
The truth was, I wasn’t sure either.
My gaze locked on her mouth—the way those lips pressed tight, stubborn as hell. And God damn me, I wanted to feel them on mine. Just once. Just to shut her up.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Fuck, maybe I just needed to get laid.
It’d been over a year since I had any kind of female companionship, so that had to be it—some primal itch that hadn’t been scratched in far too long and was now rearing its ugly head. Because it sure as hell wasn’ther.
Still, some deeply neglected part of me wanted to close that distance and see if that fire was more than just mutual hatred. But the louder, angrier part told me to shove off and keep my guard up. I wasn’t about to let some pretty face blow a hole in the walls I’d worked so hard to build.
I leaned in, close enough to catch the scent of her skin—sweet and wild and entirely unwelcome—and took the egg basket from her before thrusting a shovel into her hand.
