I smile at her when she turns back to me. “Nope, there’s only room for one asshole horse in this town,” I say in a ridiculous western accent that results in a raised brow and a half grin from Kira. “I just want to let you know these old things don’t have pay at the pump. You have to go inside. Small town. You’ll get used to it.”
“Won’t be around long enough for that,” she says. Then under her breath, she adds, “At least, I don’t think so.”
I pick up the nozzle and put it into her gas tank. “Pick your poison,” I say and gesture to the three different grades of gasoline. She presses unleaded, and I begin to pump. Her eyes nearly bug out of her head when she realizes I’m not about to step out of the way and let her take over.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Filling your tank.”
“I know, but what are you doing?”
I finally figure out what she’s getting at. “Another small-town thing that you won’t be around long enough to get used to. The people around here, all help each other. Chivalry is alive and kicking in these parts.”
“I…I’m not used to that.”
“You haven’t seen the half of it yet.” Wait until she learns about the B&B that runs on the honor system. At first, I thought it was ludicrous. Sooner or later, one of the locals, or any of the seasonal fishermen who stay at the place, would rob the jars of money left on the dining room’s mid-century walnut credenza. But nope. Only in small-town Nova Scotia could one pull off such a gig. The place would be robbed blind anywhere else.
“You’re not dressed for this weather. Head inside, stay warm, and I’ll be done shortly.”
She hesitates for a second. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
“No problem.”
“Oh wait, I’m short on lobster. Do you think this will work?” She waves her credit card and gives me a grin. Jesus, she’s cute.
“I’m sure Frank will make an exception.”
She retreats to the warm garage, and I finish filling her up. I tighten the gas cap, and when I get inside, Frank is ringing her up with his manual swipe credit card machine from another century. He hands her a receipt, and as she glances at it, she has that now familiar confused look on her face.
I lean into her, my mouth near her ear. “That would be an old school receipt.”
She tucks the copy into her pocket. “Thanks again,” she says and heads to the door.
“Better put a coat on girly, storms coming,” Frank warns.
She turns back around, her big brown eyes wide. “I didn’t hear anything about a storm.”
He offers her a toothless smile. “These old knees don’t lie.”
She stands there for a second like she’s not sure what to make of that, and I come to her rescue. “People around here know the weather depending on which body part aches. It’s a thing.” I glance over my shoulder, but Frank has disappeared into the bay to work on my car. I push open the door for Kira, and she steps past me, her body brushing up against mine. Her barely-there touch burns through my blood and settles deep between my legs, as her sweet scent washes over me.
All I can think about is placing my lips on the delicate column of her throat and kissing the soft curve where it meets her collarbone. Goddammit, I want to taste her. Seriously, though, what is it about her that remind me I haven’t been with a woman in a long time?
Mumbling under her breath, she says, “Lobster for currency and knees that forecast storms. I’m beginning to believe I’m in the Twilight Zone.”
Working to keep my breathing even, I say, “Lunenburg Nova Scotia, Twilight Zone. Interchangeable. But you should listen and get a coat on.”
She nods. “I have one in the trunk. At least I think I brought one.” She gets in her car and drives off. Ten minutes later, I’m back