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“Very funny,” she said, feigning annoyance. “That incident cost me my two front teeth.”
“Those baby teeth were coming out anyway,” I defended with a smirk, remembering how she cried for a minute then got right back up, bloodied mouth and all, ready to take on the world—or at least the sidewalk. That was Becca: resilient as hell and twice as stubborn.
“True,” she conceded, “but let's not make a habit of reminiscing about my less graceful moments, okay?”
“Deal,” I agreed, relieved to get back to the comfortable teasing. Beneath the banter, however, a new thread of warmth remained.
I tossed the last of the whipped cream onto her hot cocoa. “For the girl who hates coffee.”
“You're a lifesaver,” she said, eyes lighting up at the sight of the frothy mountain on top.
“Speaking of saving…why did you walk all the way here in the rain?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her take another decadent sip.
“Car's dead,” she mumbled through a mouthful of whipped cream.
“Dead how? Like it needs a new battery, dead or this car has gone to meet its maker, dead?"
“Pretty sure it's the former, but what do I know? I'm an accountant, not a mechanic.” She shrugged, a drop of cream lingering on her lip. I forced myself to look away—focus, Connor.
“Alright, let's go take a look. I'll drive you there.” I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door.
“Thanks, Connor. You really don't have to—”
“Shut it, Scooter. Get your coat.” I refused to let her trek out there alone, and I doubted she’d want to stay here. If she kept licking that whipped cream off like that, I’d be more than tempted to lift her back to my room.
The SUV's engine growled to life as we settled inside, the heater blasting against the chill of the evening. I picked up my own vehicle over the stations Jeep, since I trusted it more.
“Still driving this old beast, huh?” Becca teased, buckling her seatbelt.
“Hey, she's got character. And four-wheel drive, which is more than I can say for whatever city car you rented.”
“Yeah, well, it's hard to find something with personality in a rental fleet,” she quipped, her smile making her eyes dance.
“Personality, huh? I prefer rugged and lived-in.” The sarcasm was thick in my tone, but damn if I didn't enjoy the back and forth with her.
"Is that what we're calling rust and duct tape these days?" She laughed, looking out the window as the wipers fought against the relentless rain.
“It’s kinda like me,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Full of rust and duct tape?” There was a playful glint in her hazel eyes. “Or rugged and lived-in?”
“Watch it,” I warned, but the smile on my face betrayed my mock annoyance.
We arrived at her car. Did she know she’d walked two miles carrying a forty-pound deer?
The hood popped open with a reluctant creak and as I suspected, a dead battery. Ten minutes later, I had it roaring back to life.
“Where are you staying, anyway?” I asked as I packed away the jumper cables.
“Timeshare cabin my friend hooked me up with—the Shadow Lodge. It's not far from here, I think.” She dusted off her hands, looking pleased with the revival of her vehicle.
“The Shadow Lodge?” My eyebrow arched skeptically.
“Got a problem with that?”
“No, no. Just picturing you chopping wood and starting fires gives me a good laugh.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” she shot back, but I caught the twitch of a smile. The air between us was charged, like static electricity waiting for a place to strike. And I knew it was dangerous territory, considering who she was. My best friend's little sister should be off-limits, but damn if she didn't make it hard to remember that.
