“Don’t you have another?” I pull on my own jacket and button it up.
“I’m holding out until next winter. I’d rather buy a swimsuit for my nonexistent summer vacation.” She grins as I pull open the door for her.
“Why no vacation?” I ask.
“I’m trying to start a business. Money is going to be tight. But I still plan on sunning myself on the roof of our apartment building—it’ll be a staycation.”
“Aren’t you afraid it will collapse?”
She reaches the car before I do and is already climbing into the passenger seat, ignoring my dig at her building.
The car seems hot compared to outside. The temperate air contrasts with the thirty degrees outside. Magnolia turns to me.
“If you keep making fun of my building, I’ll tell the doorman to keep you out.”
I smirk. “You don’t have a doorman.”
“That you’ve noticed,” she replies, too smug for my comfort.
“If you’re talking about the local neighborhood gang, that makes me want to call the police and tip them off to a little drug deal I witnessed the other morning.”
The idea of her staying in that apartment makes mewant to do something drastic, like drive past her street and take her to the safety of my home.
I don’t like that there are people hanging around the front of the building. Or the strange smell coming from the first-floor apartments.
She deserves so much more than that.
The thought causes me to freeze. She already means so much to me. How is that possible? We’re practically strangers. I don’t have the right to give input into her life. But I’d love nothing more than to take care of her and make life easier for her. Especially when I’ve put her in this impossible position.
Sure, I’m paying her, but she could be doing literally anything else. She could be back at her job, making good connections for her upcoming business venture.
And the fact that she’s offered multiple times to help me for free? That tells me everything I need to know about her.
But I can’t fall for her.Bad idea, Nash.
I feel this way only because she’s a good person.Right.That’s the only reason I worry about her.
And I definitely worry. She has a gang hanging around her apartment building regularly. The kind of people you’d see in a movie that demand a block to pay them protection money.
My heart skips a beat. “You’re not paying them, are you?” I snap as I turn down the car’s temperature. I work to open the buttons on my coat so I don’t roast alive.
“Paying who for what?”
“The gang!” I snap as I struggle with the top button while keeping the car on the road.
“Do you think I’m an addict?” The bite in her voice has the potential of lowering the temperature in the car all byitself. “Are you regretting not taking a full drug screening panel when you hired me to be your fiancée?” Her outraged voice fills the car.
“That is absolutely not what I’m saying. I’m just wondering if you give them anything to ensure your safety.”
She huffs and folds her arms across her chest. “The only thing I give them is cinnamon rolls, so you can take your judgmental attitude and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“You’re paying them for protection in cinnamon rolls?” I ask as I turn onto Magnolia’s block.
She turns to glare at me, but her pursed lips give way to a small smile.
Soon, she’s full-on grinning. Before I know it, she’s throwing her head back and cackling.
“Wait until I tell Piper. She’s going to think it’s so funny that we’ve been paying the biker gang for protection in cinnamon rolls.”
