Page 84 of The Flirty Vet

Unless…

I reach for the radio, and he slaps me across the wrist again.

"Ow." I shake out my hand. Why do I keep thinking I can be faster than him? Okay, that's the last time I do that. Seriously, I will bruise tomorrow.

"Hey," I yell out so that he can hear me. "If you don't stop singing and start talking to me right now…"

He glances over at me, ratcheting up his singing to an even more obnoxiously loud volume. I've never really liked Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean," but after this trip, I am officially traumatized by it.

"I'm getting out right now!" I cry out over his howling and make like I'm about to open the door. We're cruising down the freeway, doing at least sixty miles an hour, so I'm not actually going to jump out of the car, I just want Wilby tothinkthat I am.

He sees me and shrieks, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Before I can answer, he hurls himself over me, batting my hand away from the door handle. The pickup does a mad swerve, and thank fuck the road is dead straight and there are no other cars around, otherwise we'd be in serious trouble.

I lift both hands in the air in surrender. "Wilby, steering wheel!" I scream.

He straightens us out and slams on the brakes.

"Are you fucking crazy?" he demands once we've come to an abrupt stop on the side of the highway.

I lower my hands and open the door so he doesn't take off the second I start talking. And then I think that might not be enough to stop him, so I unbuckle my seat belt and jump out of the truck.

He does the same.

We engage in a standoff, staring at each other over the hood.

"No. I'm not crazy. But we need to talk, and we need to talk right fucking now…Wilby."

16

Wilby

I open my mouth, but Col cuts me off before I can even say it. "And drop it with that Mr. Linfox bullshit."

Fine. I'll just continue death staring at him. "You want to talk.Talk."

"I will."

He makes his way to the front of the Land Rover and hikes himself up onto the bonnet. He sits there for a few moments, before turning back, looking over his shoulder, as if silently asking,Well, are you going to just stand there or are you going to join me?

He smiles.

It's not a big smile.

Not dazzling.

Not earth-shattering.

But it's nice.

Really fucking nice, and my stupid, disloyal heart flutters.

Reluctantly, I join him, but I keep a good distance between us. Not sure I can trust myself around him at the moment.

I'm still reeling in shock that the first guy I've liked in forever is going to be the one to screw the nails into the coffin of generations of my family's work. How is this even happening?

Yeah, yeah, I heard what he said to Gran. That he wants to make this workfor everyone. And who knows, maybe he really does believe there's a way out of this shithole we're in. But until I can be one hundred percent sure he really is on our side and that he's not just trotting out some corporate wankshit he's wheeled out a hundred times before to people in our predicament, I have no intention of making this easy on him.