Page 43 of River Wild

“The coat is fleece.”

Fudge. He’s right.

“Fleece is waterproof.” Kind of. Okay, not at all.

“Sure it is.”

I can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

Such a smart-ass.

I refuse to admit he’s right, so I bite my lip and stay quiet.

But River doesn’t.

“I never told you my name.” His words are low and quiet.

“Huh?”

“You called me River before, in my garden. I never told you my name.”

No, you didn’t. You were too busy ignoring me and being rude to me to share that piece of information about yourself.

But, yet again, I don’t say what I’m thinking.

And, even though I’ve done nothing wrong, I feel like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, and my face heats. I stare down at Buddy and stroke his soft fur. “I work at the diner in town—Sadie’s Diner. The cook there, Guy, he heard that I was living next door to you, and he mentioned your name in passing. So, that’s how I know it.”

“In passing. Sure.” He laughs without humor.

“Is it a problem that I know your name?”

He doesn’t answer.

And it annoys me.

But I let my annoyance slide. I really don’t want to get into an argument with the guy at one thirty in the morning.

He pulls his truck up outside my house and turns off the engine. That surprises me. I expected him to park on his drive, and I would walk over.

“Thanks again for the ride,” I tell him. “Sorry to have kept you out so late.”

He shrugs.

I take that as my cue to leave.

Holding on to Buddy, I open the passenger door and climb out of the truck. I’m about to reach back in to get Buddy’s things from the floor of the truck when River appears out of nowhere. I didn’t even realize he’d gotten out of the truck. He picks up Buddy’s things and then shuts the passenger door.

“I got them,” he says gruffly.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I walk to my front door, River trailing behind me.

I honestly don’t get the guy. He acts like an asshole. Yet he drives me all the way into town to the vet at midnight and waits there with me for over an hour. Then, he drives me home. Parks outside my house. And is now carrying Buddy’s things in for me.

That’s not the act of an asshole.

Maybe River isn’t the complete asshole that he seems to be.