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Laughing in earnest, Nash said, “You silly city girl, there aren’t any bears out here to worry about.”
Vivian felt some of her fear wane.
“It’s the coyotes that’ll tear ya apart.”
Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “And you’re just going to send me out there to fend for myself? Some gentleman you are, Nash MacArthur!”
“Aw, come on now,” he said, trying to soothe her even as his eyes danced with mirth. Reaching down, he took both of her hands in his and lifted her to her feet. “You know I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Why, ‘cause your momma raised you better?” she mocked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she did.”
Vivian instantly felt like an ass. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tucked a strand of hair that’d escaped her clip behind her ear. “Just get your rear in the truck, and I’ll see ya safely home.”
Vivian debated his sincerity for a nanosecond and then nodded. “All right. But take it slow. I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”
It was just so dark!
“I’ll go slow,” he said, and something in his voice captured her attention. “But not too slow.”
Unsure if he was flirting with her or not, Vivian took a step toward the stairs, only to be stopped by his rough voice close to her ear. “You’re in good hands, Vivian. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Biting her lip, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught his eye before he turned away to retrieve his car keys from inside. But it only took that fraction of a second to see the desire burning in them, a flame that called to the fire raging inside of her, the heat of it growing every day, threatening to consume her if something wasn’t done about it.
Soon.
But that night wasn’t tonight.
Vivian turned and descended the steps into the dark and the direction she knew the truck to be parked, all the while trying to put meaning to the words he’d spoken.
Was Nash telling her what she thought he was?
Did he intend for there to be more between them, or was he just trying to be a good friend?
NINETEEN
For the third day in a row, Gretta hadn’t been in the mood to make breakfast, so Vivian got up and did it herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it alone, but she still wasn’t completely confident in the kitchen. Still, she endured.
While the men chattered over work and life, Vivian and Nash exchanged occasional glances from across the table, Nash taking the seat directly in front of hers rather than on opposite ends as he had in the beginning.
That was promising, right?
Budding romances aside, they were both worried. It wasn’t like Gretta to rest beyond the cock-a-doodle of the rooster each morning. Hell, the woman claimed to always be up before that damn bird, but she’d never been awake enough to investigate to be sure.
“Are you going to the pull tonight?” Kenny asked Nash.
He blinked, his attention leaving the mountain of scrambled eggs that he’d barely touched. “That’s tonight?”
“That’s what the signs posted all over town the last month keep sayin’.”
Nash smirked at the man. “When the hell did you learn how to read, Ken?”
Every man at the table burst into laughter. Kenny said, “You know what?” and lifted his middle finger.
“Better not let Ms. Gretta see you flying the bird,” Nash warned. “She might snap it clean off.”
