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“Nothing. Let’s go.” He reaches for my arm, but I yank it back.
“I can walk without your help.”
“Fine, walk, run, I don’t care. Just get to the damn truck. I’m tired and want to get out of here and go home.” He turns on his heel and starts walking down the street.
He is so frustrating. It takes me a minute to catch up with his long strides.
“So, why are you out so late?” I ask him while we walk side by side toward his truck parked on the side of the road.
“Mrs. Cranny found a spider in her bathroom. I had to come get it out,” he says, with a sideward glance at me.
I laugh at that. Mrs. Cranny is constantly calling the station for someone to come get little critters out of her house. She’s a crafty ninety-year-old lady who lives by herself and has a phobia of insects. Or rather, she likes to claim she has a phobia. Everyone knows the real reason she calls the station; to have one of the officers, most specifically Mac, come out to her house to give her eye candy to look at.
“It isn’t funny. I walked into the bathroom expecting to see a big spider. Did I see a big spider? No. I saw a spider smaller than my damn pinky nail. I would swear that she pinched my ass whenI was bent over picking up the damn thing. She needs to be put in a home.”
“Oh, come on, Mac. She’s just a little old lady. Are you telling me you can’t handle someone like her?”
“Fuck, no. She’s a slick one. The last time I was there I think she purposely spilled tea on my shirt so I would have to take it off.”
I laugh even harder. “Did you take it off?”
“Hell no, I didn’t. No telling what she would have done if I had.”
We reach Mac’s truck, and he opens the door for me. Because I’m so short, I have a hard time getting into it. He startles me by putting his hands on my hips and hoisting me up into the seat. I bite my lip to keep from chuckling at the cliché lingering of his hands on my hips. Typical male reaction in this situation.
“You can let go, Sheriff. I think I got it now,” I tell him over my shoulder.
He looks up from looking at my ass with heat in his eyes. Yep, typical male. The look he gives me tells me he doesn’t care he was caught looking.
“It was in my face. Where else do you expect me to look?” he says, before letting me go.
I tip my lips up at that.
He closes the door and walks around while I put on my seatbelt. Of course, he climbs up with no trouble. I think the truck companies that make these monsters are a bunch of horny guys. Their sole purpose is to have guys touch women’s hips to lift them in the truck. I snicker at the idea.
“What’s funny?”
I glance over at him. “Nothing.”
He starts the engine and pulls out onto the deserted road. The cool air coming from the vents causes goose bumps to form on my sweaty skin.
“What did Shady mean, you were reminiscing?” Mac asks, after a couple of minutes.
Nope, not going there. No way am I telling Mac what happenedbetween Shady and me. He would shit a brick and go ballistic, especially if he knew the details. That’s one story that will never come to light. I decide to act nonchalant and lie.
“I have no idea what he’s talking about. We’re talking about Shady here, and you know Shady likes to act… well, shady.”
Out the corner of my eye, I see Mac turn his head my way, watching me, weighing my words. Doesn’t matter if he believes me or not. He’s not getting anything out of me. He can speculate and contemplate all he wants. Luckily, he lets it go.
“I’ll stop by the bar tomorrow morning and change your tire. I’ll bring your car by the house so you’ll have it for work.”
I turn my body to face him before I speak. “You don’t need to do that. I can change it myself.”
“I know you can, but I’m going to do it for you.” The stubbornness I see in his jaw tells me not to argue. I do anyway. It’s my damn car.
“Don’t touch my car. I’ll take care of it,” I tell him.
“Fuck, Mia, just let me change the damn tire. I don’t have anything going on tomorrow anyway.”
