Nodding, I lean against his truck as the car slowly reappears up the ditch. “They didn’t leave the place to a ghost. I need you to follow me to the house. You’ll get to meet her, and damn…”
“That hot?”
“I would buy used socks if she was the one sellin’ them.”
Carter laughs, his dark hair blowing in the wind, and he disconnects the hook from the car when we finally get it fully on the road. “No wonder she spun out. These tires are bald as shit,” he growls.
Get it out now, tire salesman. You won’t be saying that to her face when you see it. That perfect face with those perfect lips.
“Follow me?” I ask, wiping my hands with a towel from my pickup and attempting to dust myself off as best I can.
I feel bad having to adjust her seat, but neither of us would be able to drive her car otherwise. She doesn’t seem that short. And she wears heels, which doesn’t make a lot of sense for thecountry, if you ask me. And it’s definitely not safe for her to be as close to the wheel, and if we become friends, I plan to tell her as much. The last thing she needs is a broken cheekbone from the airbag if she gets into an accident.
Pulling up to the house, I pass the moving truck, park, and grab the key fob from the cup holder. Brynlee runs out onto the porch as I step out of her car, and I see Carter’s eyes widen through his windshield as he parks behind me. She slaps her hands on the sides of her thighs, and I try to hide my smirk. She’s too cute.
“Somethin’ wrong?” I call out to her.
“Holy Mother of Mary,” Carter murmurs as he walks up beside me.
“I know, right?” I mutter back through the side of my mouth.
Her shoulders sink. “They took off without… ugh!” Brynlee says. “You were able to get the car out of the ditch that fast?”
I elbow Carter before he can make the comment I know is on the tip of his tongue. The one about how I made a lot of things happen fast. Good things.
“You should look at replacin’ your tires. They’re as bald as my granddaddy.”
“He has a very shiny head,” I agree, surprised he brought it up. I was certain her beauty would kick it out of his mind, but I underestimated just how the man feels about appropriate tread. “Brylee Carmichael, this is my best friend, Carter Lang.”
Walking down the steps, she holds out her hand and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you. I should have listened to the mechanic about the tires, but I was in a hurry. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have Rhett as my knight in shining armor had I taken the time, so I think it all worked out, right?”
“Definitely a city girl,” Carter says.
I’m still stuck on how she referred to me as her knight. She enjoyed meeting me?
“It’s really that obvious?” she says and looks crestfallen. Even that looks adorable on her.
“It’s not a bad thing,” I assure her. “We don’t get too many city folk around here, that’s all.”
Shaking her head slightly, she plasters on a smile. “Is there any chance I could ask another favor of you?”
“Anythin’,” Carter blurts.
Elbowing him, I whisper, “Married, remember?”
Her smile changes to a genuine one, and I wish she had a cap in her teeth. Or maybe buck teeth. Something, anything, to make her just a little less perfect. “The movers put my mattress in the living room along with… well, everything else. Instead of the bedroom. On the bedframe. And since you mentioned possibly needing mouse traps, I’m not really in love with the idea of sleeping on the ground. As in, I’m kind of terrified to, actually. Would you maybe help me move it?”
“Of course,” I say, not only to help Brynlee but also to get a look inside. I’ve only ever seen the entryway.
She leads us inside, and both Carter and I share a look at how ridiculous the movers were to leave everything here like this. They have boxes stacked taller than me, and we quickly lower the stacks to reasonable heights for her.
“Oh, thank you. I think my step stool is in one of the boxes stacked towards the top. They were really anxious to get to some game, but they offered to stop by tomorrow. It sounded silly, so I declined. Then I saw where everything was left. Marking the rooms on the boxes was pointless.”
Carter looks at me. “Banden brothers?”
“Probably,” I say and laugh. “Sounds like them. Besides, do we have any other movers around Copperwood?”
“Tommy and Dave something,” she says. “I met them for about three seconds when they took over bringing my stuff here just outside of Atlanta.”
