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“Hey,” Honey said breathlessly as she slid into his truck. “Thanks for coming.” Her teeth chattered, and she shivered violently as she reached for her seat belt.
“You want to tell my why you’re outside in this crap wearing a jacket that might be okay for fall weather and boots that are definitely not waterproof?”
Another shiver racked her body. “We need to go to the coffee shop downtown and grab Brooke.” Her cheeks were pink when she turned his way, and something bloomed in his chest when her eyes met his. “Thanks for coming, Nash. I didn’t know how else to call.”
“No worries,” he replied gruffly as he put the vehicle into gear. He wouldn’t admit it, but the fact she’d called him when she was in trouble meant something. He just wasn’t sure what that something was. Or maybe he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know the why of it.
“What’s going on?” He maneuvered down empty streets, glad he didn’t have to deal with traffic as well as the storm. The wipers made a rhythmic sound as they swished back and forth, clearing the fast-falling snow.
Honey rubbed her hands together. Hell, she didn’t even have mittens on. He glared at her now. And no hat. Was she trying to freeze to death?
“This girl I’ve been helping out, Brooke, she called. She’s in trouble, and I told her I’d come get her. But my car—”
“Doesn’t have winter tires because apparently, I know nothing about living in Michigan in winter.” He’d only told her at least five times to get them.
She gave him a look of annoyance. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d need them.”
“It’s Michigan. You need them.” Nash tossed her his own look of annoyance. “You might also want to invest in some mittens and a warm hat.” He glanced down. “Maybe some good boots. Heat escapes from your head and your feet. You want to keep those puppies warm.”
“Can we not? Jesus, Nash, you sound like my father.”
“He must have been a smart man.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Right. Shit. He sighed and turned onto the street that led to the town center. “All I’m saying is that out here, you need to dress for the conditions. Snow is pretty and all, but it’s dangerous. You don’t want to get stranded in a storm unprepared.”
“Noted.” Her answer was clipped.
Nash gripped the steering wheel. Why did they have to fight? Why couldn’t she admit he was right? Why couldn’t she just listen for once?
“There she is,” Honey said, sitting straighter as she peered through the windshield. Nash followed her gaze and spied someone standing in the alcove that led to Coffee Corner. The sidewalk hadn’t been shoveled, and as they pulled up, it was obvious the young girl was cold. Honey jumped out before he had a chance to put the Jeep into Park, and he slid a few inches before the vehicle came to a stop.
He watched in silence as Honey hugged the girl and then led her to his truck. She wore an overly large pea-green coat, hood up, with a dark purple hoodie underneath. It was pulled down low so Nash couldn’t get a good look at her as she slid into the backseat.
He didn’t say a word, and when Honey was back inside, seat belt secured, he made an illegal U-Turn and headed back the way they’d come. Hell, in this weather, the local police were sitting at the stationhouse, warm and toasty, unless they were forced outside, and Nash didn’t blame them one damn bit.
He pulled the Jeep around back of the Coach House, had a hell of a time carving a path through the snow, and cut the engine. He entered the security code and stood aside while Honey ushered the young girl inside. Honey paused, her arms around the girl, and looked over her shoulder. “Thanks, Nash.”
“No worries.” He watched her closely, and something stirred in the air. His heart thumped so loud, he wondered if she heard it. He realized he wasn’t ready to leave yet. Wasn’t ready to let her go. The girl’s face was averted, but he had a feeling she was paying close attention. “Brooke, have you had anything to eat?”
She looked up then. She was a cute little thing. Big blue eyes. Wide forehead. Clear skin. Bruise on her cheek. Anger punched him in the gut, but Nash did what he could to hide it. Anger did nobody any good because it always made things worse. This young girl had already been through something violent, and he sure as hell didn’t want to add to her misery.
She shook her head, and he smiled. “How about a burger and fries?”
Brooke looked up at Honey, who said, “He does make a damn good burger.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Brooke said. She bit her bottom lip. “Do you have bacon?”
“Sure do.” Nash moved past them and headed toward the kitchen. “How about cheese?”
“Yes, please.”
“Gravy for your fries?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, what about me?” Honey asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Nash paused at the doors that led to the kitchen. He smiled at that.
