I opened the front door and windows, trying to get rid of the gasoline stink. Gods, I hated that smell, and it didn’t belong in my home. I swished a dishcloth in the air hoping that would help, but it just made me more nauseous.
Why do you care about a random guy?
He couldn’t give me an answer and blamed the gasoline stench, saying it was making him dizzy.
I picked up my coffee and tipped it in the sink. Was that the second or third one that’d gone cold? I’d lost count. I made another and was determined to drink it. Sitting on the porch, I studied the tire tracks left by Ford’s car. I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover he broke down halfway to town.
“Why doesn’t this taste as good as usual?” I swirled the now lukewarm warm coffee around in the mug. It tasted of nothing but with the added bonus of a swig of guilt.
Damn, no one invited a stranger to stay the night because they’d been ripped off by a bunch of larcenists. Who did that? Not me. So why did I feel so bad?
But I’d see Ford tomorrow when I returned his clean clothes and that reminded me they needed washing. Picking up his jeans and shirt, that stomach-turning stench of gasoline wafted over me, and I gagged. But another piece of fabric fell out as I picked them up. Briefs. Yikes, I didn’t give him underwear, so he was going commando when he left.
I froze, picturing Ford wearing no underwear under those tight jeans he’d put on. Goosebumps marched over my skin, and I shivered. Closing my eyes, I dumped all the clothes in the machine, chose a long hot cycle and left it to run.
What now? I wasn’t working today because it was the weekend, but I had plenty of things to do around the house and garden. That shed should be cleaned out, but I decided the mice could stay and the clean-up was postponed.
I gave up on the coffee and sat with my thoughts on the porch a little longer until a vehicle rumbled along the road, one that was gasping and on its last legs. But the sound was familiar because it had been here earlier.
I shot out of the chair and leaned against the railings, wondering what excuse Ford would have this time. He couldn’t pretend he’d lost his way.
He didn’t bother closing the driver’s door when he got out. But his expression was uncertain as he glanced around and refused to meet my gaze. There was more than a hint of gasoline about him, and I patted my chest, trying not to gag.
“The B&B is closed.”
Huh? “Just because the owner isn’t at the desk doesn’t mean he’s not in the building or somewhere close.”
I was gripping my empty mug because Ford smelled less gassy than before and his underlying scent intrigued me.
What? No way.
Gasoline,I clarified to my beast.
“No. He’s gone gone. The place is closed up and there’s a sign on the door saying he’s on vacation.”
Bobby had never taken a holiday since I’d known him. Why now when I needed him? I considered smashing the lock on the B&B to let Ford in, but that would be breaking and entering, and I didn’t want the local police chief on my ass.
“Please, let me stay. I’ll take that tent you offered or the shed. I don’t mind mice, though my beast might treat them as a snack.”
Had I offered him the tent? I’d thought about it.
I sighed because Ford was starting work on Monday. Maybe his new boss would offer him a bed.
“Fine.”
His broad smile reappeared, and I almost shaded my eyes it was so bright.
“So is the tent in the shed?”
I could have made him drag it out and set it up, assuming no critters had nibbled the fabric. But I had a spare bedroom, and I wasn’t using it.
Do it, do it. Give him a proper bed.
Stop nagging me.
“You don’t have to do that.” I walked to the doorway. “You can sleep in my second bedroom. But we’ll have to share the bathroom.”
His eyes darted from me to the shed and upward as if he was examining the roof. Was he thinking the shed was in better shape than my cabin?
