Page 11 of Captivating Anika
Fine.
I can feel the annoyed vibes coming off that single word, and it makes me chuckle. Giving in, but making sure to let me know she’s not happy about it. That feistiness is one of the things I like about Anika.
Within ten minutes of pulling into the GMC dealership, my good mood is fast evaporating.
Nick, the salesman who was quick to zoom in on me when I walked over to the slate-gray Suburban on the lot, is really starting to piss me off. He’s pushing hard for an upgrade package I already told him I wasn’t interested in, and now he’s trying to sell me an extended warranty I don’t want. I haven’t even taken the damn vehicle for a test drive.
“…for a very limited time. You can’t beat the additional three-year, bumper-to-bumper coverage. You’d be a fool not to grab the opportunity.”
Aside from the fact his nasal, whiny voice is supremely annoying, the way he’s rapidly clicking the back of his pen as he talks is grating on my nerves.
“Right. Well, you just convinced me to go check out the Tundra at the Toyota dealership across the road,” I let him know, as I prepare to head back to my truck.
To his credit, he doesn’t bother trying to call me back or chase me down, which is probably a smart move. I’m not planning to come back here so I may have to go into Farmington to the dealership there. I’ve had my fill of car salesmen for today though.
I still have some time to kill before I’m supposed to meet Evans at the police station. When I’m about to pull out of the parking lot, I spot the awning for the real estate office in the strip mall across the road.
I should probably start thinking about where I want to live after I sign the farm over to Franco. It’ll be weird, I’ve always lived on the farm, either in the house or the trailer home on the property. That place gave me a little privacy while still being close enough for when Mom needed me. Franco lives in the trailer now, but when his name is on the deed, his ass should be in the house.
I’m not even sure what it is I want, but it wouldn’t hurt to look.
CHAPTER FOUR
Anika
The fact I almost forgot Hog’s promise to bring over dinner is a testament to how crazy busy my day has been.
My body is aching when I haul my ass out of my car. No mean feat, since my Miata is slung a little low to the ground. It’s that I love my little convertible, otherwise I would’ve traded it in for an SUV—a little higher off the ground—a long time ago.
Doing my best to walk without limping, I lead the way to the front door. Hog is close behind me, carrying a box.
“Sorry. After this morning’s events, we started the day running behind and never quite got caught up,” I explain as I unlock the door. “My last client literally left the salon ten minutes ago.”
“No worries,” he rumbles, as I step aside to let him enter.
“There’s water and beer in the fridge, knock yourself out. I’m just gonna run up and get into something more comfortable.”
As I start up the stairs, it hits me how potentially suggestive that sounded. Yikes. I’ll blame it on the sorry state of my mind and body.
Pulling on a pair of yoga pants and my slouchy, terrycloth sweater, I almost lose my balance. I’m hungry, dehydrated, and in pain; I need a drink, food, and some medication, all of which are in the kitchen where I left Hog.
After splashing a little cold water on my face in the bathroom, I head back down, finding Hog standing by the stove, stirring a pot I don’t recognize. On the counter beside the sink, to his immediate left, are my bottles of meds.
Great.
“I’m surprised you’re cooking; I thought you were going to pick something up.”
He glances over with a faint smile. “I’m off for a couple of days, so I had time this afternoon,” he says by way of explanation. “I hope you don’t mind pulled pork tacos?”
“No. That sounds amazing. It’s already starting to smell good too,” I assure him as I sidle up to the sink and the empty glass I left there this morning.
Turning on the tap, I fill the glass and as casually as I can, reach for my medication.
“Hurting?”
I startle at his question and drop one of the bottles, which clatters to the kitchen tile and rolls, coming to rest against Hog’s foot. He bends down and picks it up, handing it back to me.
“I noticed those when I washed my hands. How come I didn’t know you have RA?”