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“Eventually. If I can. We have a lot in common. And he claims he loves me.”
Fully dressed, he sat back as he looked at her. “How doyoufeel?”
“He’s a good guy,” she said to avoid answering that question more directly. “A girl could do a lot worse.”
Brant gave her a funny look. “That’s your answer?A girl could do a lot worse?I’d be destroyed if the woman I loved was that dispassionate about me.”
She threw up her hands. “I don’t know how I feel, Brant. That’s the problem with me. That’s how I’ve made so many mistakes in the past.”
He stood and faced her, but, fortunately, changed the subject. “When’s your great aunt’s funeral?”
“I won’t know for sure until I talk to the lady from the church. But since my parents are in Africa and my sister can’t come, it’s just me, so I can be flexible. I’ll do it whenever the building’s available, although I’d rather it not conflict with the birth of my new niece. I plan on driving to Billings to be there when Debbie goes into labor.”
If he remembered Debbie, he didn’t say. Like so many other girls, Debbie had noticed every move he’d made, but it seemed that, for him, she’d always been part of the background. “Doesn’t your aunt have any other family?”
“None. She never married, never had any kids.”
He walked over to where she’d left her phone and flashed it at her face to get past the identity lock.
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Making sure you have my number, in case you need anything while you’re here.”
She watched as he called himself so he’d have her number, too. “There won’t be any reason for me to bother you—unless I can’t get the AC unit you brought into my car when it’s time to return it.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll pick it up. Just let me know when you’re done with it.”
“Okay. Thanks for...for bringing it over. I’m sorry about your head and...all the rest of it.”
He propped his hands on his hips as he studied her. She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but his expression didn’t give anything away. After a few seconds, he sighed and said, “I guess I’d better go take a look at my truck.”
She found a pair of sandals and slipped them on before heading down herself.
Although he’d swept up the glass, he pointed at the floor. “Be careful. You need a vacuum here. I’m not a hundred percent sure I got everything.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. Then he carried the air conditioner to the basement, plugged it in and showed her how to run it before they went outside.
She followed as he strode immediately to the front of his truck. “What do you think?” she asked.
He crouched to examine the damage. “It’s not nearly as bad as I expected from the sound of the crash.”
Charlie had made a sizable dent in the bumper, but it didn’t look as though the engine had been affected. “Is this truck brand-new?”
“Yeah. I only bought it a few months ago.”
“That makes this even worse.”
“It’s a work truck. I would’ve beat it up eventually,” he said, but she didn’t find that entirely convincing. If she had her guess, he was more upset than he was showing.
He left the door open as he got in and started the engine. “Sounds fine,” he said when it fired right up.
“Good.” She stepped back so he could close the door, but he didn’t. He squinted against the sun as he looked at her the same way he’d looked at her when they were inside a few minutes earlier—speculatively, as though a lot more was going through his mind than she could read on his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s hard to regret last night,” he replied. “I enjoyed every second of it—well, the part that came after I hit my head.”
“Fear of commitment doesn’t necessarily make me bad in bed,” she joked.
