But let’s be real…there was no way in hell I was ever forgetting that.
Chapter Fifteen
Andi
By the timeI crawled into my borrowed truck and slammed the door, I was freshly showered butstillfelt dirty. Apparently, horse shit and the embarrassment of accidental full-frontal nudity was harder to scrub off than I expected. Heat flooded my cheeks for the tenth time in thirty minutes as I unwillingly relived the moment again.
He saw all of me.
All. Of. Me.
I groaned and dropped my forehead against the steering wheel.
It was awful, the way he stood there and just…drank me in with wide eyes that dragged down my body in a slow, horrified awe—like his brain couldn’t keep up with what his eyes were feeding him. And if I hadn’t been standing there, exposed and furious and wrapped in a patchwork quilt, Imight’vetaken a little satisfaction in that. I mean, if I’d known all it took to shut him up and wipe that stupid scowl off his face was standing naked in front of him, I would’ve considered it sooner.
Maybe.
Probably not.
I banged my forehead against the steering wheel again, a little harder this time.
How was I supposed to look him in the eye after this? How was I supposed toexistnear him without thinking about the way he looked at me?
And I swear, if he so much as smirked at me the next time I saw him?—
Nope. I couldn’t do it. Not the smirks. Not the lingering looks. Not the possibility that he’d remember every inch of what he saw.
The only solid answer to this horrible, mortifying problem was avoidance—total, unflinching, strategic avoidance…and maybe a new place to stay.
I let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, twisted my key in the ignition, and threw the truck into gear. The old Chevy struggled to gain speed as I pressed the toe of my boot hard against the accelerator, trying to outrun my humiliation but failing. Between the rooster ambush, Zane’sdelightfullyawful attitude, the manure mishap, and—oh yeah—flashing my new archnemesis, I was officially calling this morning a bust…a fiery, steaming, horse shit-covered bust.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I rolled down my window for some air, hoping the wind might blow some of the shame off me and cool down that anger simmering in my veins.
It didn’t.
With the ranch now gone from my rearview mirror, I set my mind on the only place I could think of that could bring me any sort of relief and comfort: Belle’s diner.
She’d been nothing but kind and nice since I stumbled into this little town, and if anyone could help me pretend this disaster of a morning hadn’t happened, it was her.
The diner came into view as I passed the bend, its metallic siding catching the light and flickering like it was welcoming meback in Morse code or something. My grip on the steering wheel loosened as some of that tension tightening my body faded, and I wiggled my fingers to get my blood circulating again.
Everything about the place looked…differenttoday. Yeah, it was the same little diner, same gravel lot, same vintage Coke sign swinging by the door, but now it kind of felt like somethingelseentirely. When I rolled up here yesterday, it was out of necessity. I was exhausted and disoriented. But today? Today it felt like a haven.
I hadn’t really noticed it yesterday, but Belle’s place was actually quite charming. The building had this classic railroad car diner aesthetic with bushes and flowers flanking the entrance, full of cheerful little buds and blooms in an array of pinks and purples. It was cozy, and homey, and the kind of place where you justknewthe coffee was strong, the pie was homemade, and the people behind the counter asked if you wanted your usual. And after the morning I’d had, it felt like walking into a hug I didn’t have to ask for.
The gravel lot crunched beneath my tires as I pulled in, rolling up beside a rusted-red pickup truck that had definitely seen better days. I parked and let the engine idle for a second, soaking in the calm I felt from just being there. This I could handle. No roosters. No manure. No tall, broad-shouldered grumps barging into bedrooms uninvited—because I had definitely said “don’tcome in.” Just the smell of bacon and coffee, the clink of dishes, and Belle’s calm, no-nonsense voice calling peoplehonandsweetheart.
I killed the ignition and climbed out, shutting the door and dodging the sprinkle of rust as I made my way to the entrance. The bells over the door clanged as I walked in, and Belle glanced up from behind the counter where she was refilling a mug for one of her customers. After doing a double take, her gaze landed on me and stuck—not quite shocked but more curious.
“Well, hey, stranger,” she said, looking me over again. “You look like you’ve had yourself a day.”
I huffed out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh, even though I tried, and self-consciously combed a hand through my hair—my fingers getting stuck in the mess of tangled waves.
“Is it that obvious?” I muttered, giving up on trying to tame my windblown locks and tucking a few errant strands behind my ears.
Belle gestured to one of the stools. “Come sit,” she said. “I’ll get you something hot and something sweet, and you can tell me all about it. Or don’t. Your call.”
I slid onto the nearest stool and slumped forward onto the counter, letting my forehead rest against the cool laminate. The soft clink of ceramic against the laminate sounded next to my head, followed by the warm, familiar scent of coffee drifting toward me. I lifted my head just enough to peek at her from under my hair. “You ever fall in horse shit and then flash a guy you hate?”
