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God, what was he doing?
He reached up to grab her wrists, then dragged her arms down from around his neck.
Confusion clouded her eyes. “What?”
“Clutter.”
“What?”
He cleared his throat and went for more than one word. “I told you, my life doesn’t allow for clutter.”
She stiffened and leaned back. The movement bent her slightly over the counter and put her hips back into contact with his. He jerked as if poked with a branding iron.
“I was kissing you Joel, not asking you to marry me.”
“But you don’t do casual.”
Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I changed my mind. What’s the problem as long as we both know the score?”
His own words slapped him in the face. Hearing them in her voice made them sound callus and uncaring. This time, he cared. With her, he cared about the fact they’d go their separate ways. He cared that she was hurting and thought this was a way to feel better. He cared that he’d only end up causing her more pain.
“You deserve better,” he repeated.
She eased in closer. “I don’t need you to be all chivalrous right now.”
He steeled his resolve against the plea in her eyes. “Yes you do. You just don’t know it.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Like you know what’s best for me?”
“In this case, yes.”
She shoved against his chest and he moved back to give her space. Give himself space.
“You’re thinking with your heart right now, Brittany. Trying to ease the pain caused by your father’s and fiancé’s betrayal. Trust me, you’ll regret it in the morning.”
She stared him right in the eye and shook her head. Jaw clenched, she stalked past him to yank open the front door. “I regret coming here right now.”
He followed her outside but didn’t try to stop her. If she stayed, they’d end up right where he’d expected when he lied about the SD card in his pocket and she’d accepted his offer to come over. Before he had an attack of conscience.
As she rounded the front of her vehicle to yank the driver’s side door open, he caught sight of the passenger side.
“Whoa.” He backtracked a couple steps to get a better look at her truck. “What happened here?”
“What?” she snapped.
Two scratches marred the shiny black paint, running the entire length of her passenger door and truck bed. “Your truck’s been keyed.” He glanced up to see her frown. “You didn’t see this?”
“No.” She slammed her door shut again and joined him on the passenger side as he fingered the deep scratches. Her surprise was quickly followed by anger as she stared at the vandalism. “Well isn’t this great. It must’ve just happened, because I gave Casey a ride to The Watering Hole and he’d have said something.”
“So either in the parking lot or here.”
She looked back and forth along the sidewalk of the quiet neighborhood. “I’m guessing the lot. There were a group of kids skateboarding when I first got there.”
“I’ll call and see if there are any outdoor security cameras at the bar. We might see who did it.”
“I’ll talk to Billy,” she stated as she headed back to the driver’s side.
“You should also file a police report so you have a statement for your insurance,” he advised as he trailed after her. “I can come with you if you’d like?”
