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“But you didn’t eat,” Jackson said, his voice stilted.
“I’m all set, thanks.” She worked up her biggest smile-for-the-camera face. “Thanks for patching me up, Autumn.”
“No problem at all, hon. Just tell whoever’s working the clinic that Autumn Mackenzie sent you, and that they’d better be nice with that needle.”
Carly shuddered, but the thought of a needle was nothing compared to the prick standing across from her. “I will.”
She’d turned to duck through the crowd, the tightness in her chest already unraveling in relief, when Jackson’s baritone stopped her dead in her tracks.
11
“Wait!”
Carly commanded her legs to keep going at the sound of Jackson’s voice, but of course, her brain teamed up with her poor, neglected vagina to overrule her. Damn it, she really needed to get laid so she could regain her sense of self-preservation. But for now, she had to deal with the matter at hand.
“Yes?” Carly mentally patted herself on the back for the fact that on the rare occasion she didn’t embody grace under pressure, she could still fake it with the best of them. The rubber sole of her flip-flop squeaked against the lawn as she turned back to look at Jackson. He raised his eyes, but didn’t quite manage to meet her gaze, landing his focus on the vicinity of her chin instead.
“You need a ride back to your car. I can take you.”
Well, shit. She’d forgotten her car was sitting in the parking lot at Joe’s Grocery. Jackson unwound his arm from Jenna’s waist and dug into his pocket for his keys, causing panic to bolt through Carly’s veins. She didn’t even want to be out in the open with him, much less in the confined space of his truck.
“No.” A streak of color and sparkly silver light popped like a hot kernel in the distance, mercifully distracting everyone from the hard, unwavering syllable that had just passed from Carly’s lips. “I mean, you’ll miss the fireworks that way. I’ll just call my roommate and have her come get me.”
“It’s really not that far,” Jackson argued, his eyes glittering.
“All the more reason it’ll be a piece of cake for me to get a ride,” Carly insisted right back. Although Sloane would certainly grill her for details all the way home, Carly had zero doubts that her friend would come get her.
“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked, green eyes clouded with concern. “Maybe—”
“Let me take you,” Jackson repeated, the words coming out like he was strangling in quicksand. Jenna’s forehead crinkled, and the added attention to Jackson’s insistence pushed Carly even harder to stand her ground.
“No, thanks. My ride will be here in ten minutes. Maybe less.” She took a step backward, then another. No more distractions. She was out of here.
“See you tomorrow, Bellamy. Have a great night, everybody.”
This time when Carly turned to walk away, Jackson did nothing to stop her.
* * *
Whoever coinedthat old phrase about the best laid plans was probably laughing his ass off right now. Carly squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out a dusky view of the front yard.
In her haste to get out of dodge, she’d forgotten that cellular service was hopeless on a good day in the mountains. Her iPhone was as useless as a chocolate teapot way the hell out here, not to mention the fact that even if she could use it, she still had no clue where she was or how to get to the bungalow from here. Carly released an exasperated breath, but refused to even think about heading back to the house behind her.
“Come on, cell phone.” She tapped the screen with a gentle caress. “Give me a signal. Just for a few minutes, whaddaya say?”
Not even a flicker. Carly muttered a curse in Italian before shoving the stupid thing back into her pocket. A burst of pink and white light bloomed high over the back of the house, a brightly lit peony against the velvet sky, and she stopped to think.
If everyone was down at the lake watching the fireworks, maybe she could sneak back into the house and pray there was a landline. She wouldn’t be breaking and entering or anything, just slipping in unnoticed for a quick call. Even if she couldn’t figure out how to get Sloane here to pick her up, maybe she could call an Uber or something.
News flash,stupida!They don’t do Uber up here in Pine Mountain.She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, refusing to believe she was out of options.
“Come on, Carly. Think,” she whispered, taking out her worthless iPhone to give it one last try. There had to be something. There had to be…
“Do you need some help?”
Carly shrieked at the male voice coming from her right, dropping her cell phone and balling both fists into a fighting stance. She wasn’t about to go down like an extra in a B-grade slasher flick, no way. Forget that the deep, disembodied voice had offered to help. Didn’t Ted Bundy do the same thing to all of those poor, unsuspecting victims of his, too? Carly cocked her arms tight against her shaking body, primed to take a swing, and scanned the shadowy yard to locate the source of the voice.
“Whoa! Carly, relax. It’s me. Shane,” he clarified in a rush. A golden-orange pop of light illuminated the yard from overhead, and the concern on Shane’s face was obvious as he creased his brow at her from a few paces away.
