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“Does anyone in this town have a tow truck?”
“Will,” Janice and I said at the same time.
“Seriously? How many people live here?” he asked, and it was the first time I heard frustration come from him.
“Four hundred and ninety-nine.” Janice gave a smirk at my scowl. “It’s a pet hate of Iris’s,” she tacked on conspiratorially.
“People?” Mark blurted, and I felt affronted at his not-that-far-off-the-mark assumption.
“Odd numbers,” I explained. His head tilted slightly, making his blond hair flop over his eyes, which I noted were blue, as he thought about that.
“We could use Gary’s Raptor, hook it up and take it back here, get it off the road,” I suggested to Janice, desperate to avoid any questions about my quirks, and she nodded as she thought about it. “What kind of car is it?” I asked him. He blushed bright red, and I was unprepared for the summersault that happened in my belly. “You don’t know, do you?” I realised.
“It’s old,” he defended himself. “I drove it, it got possessed, and then it died.” He looked at us sheepishly. “It was uncomfortable and blue.”
My jaw was slack, and I jumped when Janice guffawed with laughter. “It’sblue,” she chuckled as she unloaded her shotgun, and I saw his eyes widen when he realised the gunhadbeen loaded.
“Green eyes, not blue.” I realised.
They both looked at me.Oh shit, I said that out loud.
“Old orvintage?” I pressed, trying to ignore my slip.
“Vintage,” he said with confidence. “It’s definitely vintage,” he grumbled, and I heard a trace of bitterness he hadn’t had before.
“Blue, vintage, stick?” I asked.
“Yes.” His mouth twisted in distaste, and I grinned.
“Good thing you aren’t driving my car; I drive stick.”
“Of course you do,” he said with a light laugh, and when he smiled, he went from decent looking to hot. Holy hell, my tummy flipped over itself again.
“Might not be able to move it,” I contemplated as I turned to Janice.
“Said he was walking for three hours.”
We both turned to look at him again.
“I think you’re stuck here until Will’s back,” I said, confirming his worst fears.
I watched as he pulled open his bag of groceries, and pulling out a smaller bag, he reached in and pulled out one of Janice’s pancakes. Tearing a bite off, he chewed methodically.
“That’s his fourth,” Janice told me with pride.
“Do you think he knows he’s eating them?” I asked her softly as he took another bite and chewed quickly.
“Maybe he’s thinking?”
“Maybe it’s not just the car that’s had a breakdown,” I told her under my breath.
“My mental health is fine,” he said as he stuffed the last bit in his mouth. “Is there crack in these?” he asked Janice. “They’re addictive.”
Had this been a normal day, I would have been putting a poster on the town noticeboard to tell the entire town that Janice Woodstock blushed on this day.
“You’re blushing,” I told her in glee.
“Shut your mouth, Iris Bracknell, you’re not too old to put over my knee!” she scolded, and I laughed as she took a threatening step forward.
