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“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No worries.”
She zips up the jacket and rubs her cheek on the lining on the collar. “I’m sorry I was a couple of minutes late today; I had a client run long. I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again if you choose to continue driving me home.”
“It’s not a big deal.” I adjust myself in the seat and wait for her to do up her seat belt before putting the truck in reverse. It’s dead quiet on Main Street tonight, no other cars on the road besides us as we pull away from the salon. “I don’t have a lot to do in the evenings anyway. Where am I dropping you off?”
“I’m a couple houses off Second Street. The one with the red roof.”
“Got it. There’s the crabapple tree in front of the back gate, right?” No amount of time away will fog my memory of every nook and cranny of this place.
“That’s the one. And you’re telling me you don’t go out with your friends all the time after a long day? I figured you’d be spending most nights with them at Peakside.”
“Caleb loves to drag me out with him, but I’m supposed to be relaxin’, not joinin’ him and his friends in drunk karaoke.” I glance across the truck and catch her worrying her lip like she’s holding something back. “You can ask what you want to.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. If I don’t want to answer something, I won’t.”
There are some things I can’t hide from, and Anna’s knowledge of who I am is one of them. I can’t imagine that it’s easy being around someone with as much drama surrounding them as I have and not wonder.
My headlights beam off the snow of the intersection as we stop at a red light. Anna taps her fingers on the centre console before saying, “Fair enough. So, how bad was it? Your voice? They kept it vague in the media, and I didn’t really pay much attention to that until, well, I saw you here.”
More guilt for judging her the first time we met nips at me. I couldn’t have been further off about her.
“Bad enough I got permission to leave the tour and come home. It could have been worse, but it could have also been a hell of a lot better.”
“How long are you home for?”
Something sours in my stomach. The thought of leaving again . . . “At least another month.”
“And you’re upset about that?”
“Nashville is very different than Cherry Peak” is all I say.
“Would you stay here forever if you could?”
When I look at her again, she’s already watching me thoughtfully.
“I don’t know. But Nashville was never my plan.” The sign for Second Street appears, and with it, I put her in the hot seat. “Do you plan on stickin’ around long?”
“For as long as I can. I like it here.”
“You’ll have to learn to drive in this weather if you stay. You realize that, right?” I tease.
Her following laugh is warm, welcoming. I like it. “Why would I do that when I get to have you driving me around instead?”
My laugh joins hers. “You make a strong argument.”
“Work smarter, not harder, Brody.”
“Maybe I ought to bring you out to the ranch sometime. My grandfather could use a verbal smack talk from you about that.”
She hums. “Grandpa Steele working you too hard lately?”
He’d be disturbed if he heard her speak of him that way. The idea of witnessing such an event amuses me far too much.
“Lately? Hard work is what fuels him. There’s nothin’ like skipping a workaround for a problem simply because it’s either too easy or not the way he was taught to do it back in his youth. It’s the difficult way or no way.” The complaints seem to fall from my lips of their own accord. I don’t have time to feel guilty for them before she’s speaking again, having already digested everything I’ve admitted.
