Page 85 of One Last Shot
She took a step toward him, knelt, and pulled back the iron as if to swing again, then gasped. “Moose?”
His chin burned and he opened his jaw and moved it even as he backed away, sitting up. “That’ll leave a mark.”
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I—what are you doing creeping up on me?”
She seemed fierce in the darkness, her eyes blazing as she stepped back. She had the tire iron still raised, a fighter’s stance, and for a second she reminded him of an action hero—maybe Wonder Woman—ready to take him out.
Oh no. “I’m not—I’m not stalking you. I was... okay, I was...” His mouth closed as she eyed him. “I came for pie.”Oh, lame. But the fact that he hadn’t gotten pie tonight saved his hide, because she lowered the tire iron. “And I saw you out here, and I thought maybe I could help.”
She took a breath. Then sighed and shook her head and offered him a hand. “I did think it was weird that you didn’t take any home. Cherry tonight.”
“I know. I was . . . I . . . What’s going on with your car?”
Pulling out her phone, she flashed it on the engine as he stepped up to it. “The starter is getting stuck. Usually if I tap on it a few times it’ll start. Sometimes I need someone to start it while I tap it.”
Snowflakes landed on her dark hair,like glitter.
“Get in,” Moose said. He held out his hand for the tire iron, and she handed it over. “You’re a little dangerous with this thing.”
She smiled. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
“Noted, Gal Gadot.”
Laughing, she got into the driver’s seat. He tapped on the solenoid on the side of her engine, and in a moment the car’s engine turned over.
He dropped the hood as she got out, standing in her open door.
“Thanks.” She took the tire iron from him. “Should I go get you that pie?”
“Naw.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Now. Ask her now.
“Then I gotta go.”
She looked up to the sky, snowflakes landing on her face, her nose. She stuck out her tongue and caught one. Grinned at him. “Don’t have those in Florida.”
“Nope.” Oh, she was pretty. He drew in a breath?—
“Next piece of pie is on me. Thanks, Moose.” Then she got back in the car and pulled out.
He watched as her brake lights flashed red, then she turned onto the wet, shiny street and disappeared.
CHAPTER 10
So much for the bright light of tomorrow. Oaken sat on the floor in the guest room of Moose’s beautiful home, his back against an overstuffed chair, his guitar over his knee, trying to pick out a tune, maybe squeeze some lyrics from his brain.
Hard to do when he kept looking out the window at the snow and ice that had descended two nights ago and now pelleted his window. Over two days, spring in Alaska had morphed back into January, with howling winds and white as far as the eye could see.
Which, honestly, wasn’t very far.
His room looked out over the river, barely visible in the snow and gloom. Wan light bled through the clouds, and really, maybe he should just go back to bed, pull the covers up, and forget the email from Goldie.
“Oaken. Checking in on your songs. Wild Mountain Records is still waiting on your first pass. And venues are asking about confirmation of dates and deposits. It’s time to come out of the woods. Call me!”
Maybe he should be thankful cell service to Moose’s place had cut out. It meant he couldn’t rabbit trail down social media. It also meant, however, he couldn’t call Boo.
Every bone in his body ached for her, and he would have gotten in his car yesterday morning, but the driveway out of Moose’s house had turned to ice, the snow like cement.