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“Drives a black King Ranch quad cab.”
I squint. “How do you know what I drive?”
She grins. “It’s parked out front. It gets worse.”
“Oh no.” I don’t see how it can.
“I watched interviews you have done on my phone just now.”
I close my eyes. “You definitely stalked me. Maybe you’re the serial killer.”
She laughs again. “I absolutely researched you, Goldilocks.”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or scared.”
We both smile, and there it is, that easy feeling again.
I shake my head. “What are the chances? I can’t believe that you’re here.”
“Me neither.”
“I thought I’d never see you again.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
She looks down and smiles. “So did I. I also noticed you kept the note I wrote you on the napkin in your wallet.”
Comfortable silence settles between us. She looks happy to see me, too.
Then I remember something. Tucker was going to have me stay in the bunkhouse with him. And then his sister-in-law, Cami, was adamant that I stay in the cabin for some reason. I would have been fine at the bunkhouse with Tucker, but now I know what happened.
“I think we’ve been set up,” I say as I scrub a hand over my face.
“What do you mean?” she asks as she sits in the chair across from me and crosses her long, gorgeous legs. I blink when I remember them wrapped around me and shake my head, getting back into the moment.
“I texted a picture of my driver’s license to your friend. And that friend was in charge of our sleeping accommodations.”
She stares for a minute, then sits up straighter. “She knew!”
“Yeah,” I say. “Do you think she set us up to stay here together?”
She closes her eyes, groans, and leans back. “I’m going to kill her.”
“Who is the real serial killer here?” I tease.
She scoffs and says, “I can’t believe she knew last night and didn’t say a word.”
“Are you mad about it, though? I think this is pretty great,” I admit.
She bites her lip and smiles. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we shared a cabin.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” I grin back.
She glances toward the kitchen. “So...”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Do you want coffee?”
“Please.” I sigh. I desperately want coffee. And her.
