Page 50 of Strung Along
Warmth covers my hands, drawing my eyes from the mug. A small, soft hand covers my much larger, rougher ones. She strokes my knuckles with her thumb, and my breath stutters.
“I’m sorry. I have no doubt that she was an incredible woman.”
I can’t ignore her stare any longer. The moment I find those brown eyes glistening with grief for me, I turn over my hands and sandwich hers between them. My touch grows brave when she doesn’t pull away. Pointer finger exploring, I trace over a small line of raised skin. A scar on the inside of her middle finger.
Something restless settles inside of me. Maybe we’re not that different after all.
“Are you up for learnin’ how to boost your car?”
Her answering grin strikes me so deeply I’m thankful to be sitting down.
“Yes, please.”
20
ANNALISE
A half hourlater and I’m in disbelief of how easy it is to bring a dead car battery back to life. Watching Brody turn his truck to face my car and then haul two cords—one red and one black—from the back had done something to me. That something only seemed to grow stronger and more annoying when he popped both hoods, connected them with the cords, and then ordered me to turn my car on.
It took far too much effort to keep from saying yes, sir, anything you want, sir.
When the engine started on the first crank, I nearly shrieked. That’s when the embarrassment had set in. It had been so easy to boost my car, yet I hadn’t been able to do it on my own. I didn’t know how.
Brody didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t known how to do it. I think he cared more about making sure I learned for the future than anything else.
That’s why he’s still here, walking back from his truck a second time with a bag in his hand and a long yellow cord tossed over his shoulder.
The toque he plopped onto my head before we left the house keeps sliding down my forehead as I lean against the car door. Ihave to push it up to keep from looking away from him when he steps in front of me.
“Is there anything youdon’tcarry in your truck?” I ask.
He chuffs a laugh. “You don’t even know what I have yet, and you’re already bustin’ my balls.”
“Fair enough. What have you brought me, Oh Mighty One?”
The serious shift in his expression has me sobering. “You can’t be driving without an emergency kit, especially in the winter. This has everything from flares to an emergency blanket. Never take it out of your trunk unless you need to use it.” He waits for me to nod before continuing, lifting the shoulder with the yellow cord slung over it.
“This is an extension cord for you to use to keep your car plugged in when you’re not usin’ it. Every time the temperature drops below minus twenty-five, you’re goin’ to make sure your car is plugged in and that you’re startin’ it at least once a day. When you start it, have it run for a good ten minutes straight if you’re not goin’ to be drivin’ it.”
My face flushes beneath the weight of his instructions and explanations. He’s being gentle with his words, cautious as if to not make me feel completely useless. I appreciate the effort, even if it only half lightens the blow.
I lick my wind-dried lips. “You don’t need these things in your truck?”
“There are extras at the ranch,” he replies with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t match the intensity of his stare. I choose not to mention that.
“Thank you. I appreciate this.”
Taking a step closer to me, the toe of his boot nudges the side of mine. His hand ghosts over my waist in a steady, comforting touch that lingers before he’s moving to the other side of me and opening the back door. My blood heats, and that’s enoughto have me pushing away from the car and putting some space between us.
Watching him try to squeeze his body into the small space of my back seat is what I imagine clowns look like popping out of a clown car. It would probably take a hearty push against his ass to get him inside.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just plug your car in before I head out,” he says.
I didn’t notice that I was smiling until I feel it fall. Disappointment falls like a rock in my stomach. What I’m disappointed about exactly, I don’t know. It’s not like I expected him to stay for dinner or anything.
“Alright,” I force myself to say.
When he extracts himself from the back seat and shuts the door, I can’t find it in myself to be the first to walk away. He returns to his towering height, and my head tips back further with each step he eliminates between us.