Storm comes into the room wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and barefoot. There is something about a barefoot man in jeans that’s so sexy. At least to me. He whistles for Niko, who comes running, and Storm lets him out the door to go do his business.
“The cafe in town has those lattes you like so much. Once you’re ready, I’ll take you.”
“Thank God. I need a coffee badly. I’m ready when you are.”
“Great, once Niko comes back in, we can go.”
He sits on the chair across the room and pulls on socks and his work boots. An odd feeling starts to wash over me as I watch him, his arms flexing as he ties his boots, his hair hanging down over his face. I’m going to miss him.
He looks up and catches my eyes, but I quickly look away. He shakes his head, visibly annoyed, and stands up.
“Just say it,” he says, his face turned away from me as he slides open the glass door that leads to the deck and whistles for Niko.
“Say what?”
Niko comes bounding in, paws covered in snow and runs directly over to me to kiss my face. I pet his big fuzzy head and plant a kiss between his ears. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” I tell him.
“He’s going to miss you, too.”
I look up at Storm, who’s watching me pet his dog, and I know what he’s saying, and what he wants me to say. But I won’t say it, and I can see he’s mad. I will not fall into his trap. He thrives on this cat and mouse game of making women want him so he can play with them. I will not be one of his toys or allow myself to think that the few glimpses of possible sincerity meant anything.
“Let’s go.” He picks up my bag and I follow him down the hall to a door leading to the garage. A big truck, an older corvette, and about six motorcycles are parked in there. The walls are covered in tools. I fight the urge to ask him if this is all his. He opens the passenger side of the truck for me, and I get in and wait for him to come around and get in.
“Let’s not crash, okay?” I joke trying to lighten the mood that’s coming off him.
He grins over at me as he pushes a button to open the electric garage door and starts to back up. “If we do, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you back here. Our backseat days are over.”
Now that it’s daytime and the snow has stopped, I can see how far up into the woods we are. There are maybe three houses on the street where Storm’s house is, and then we turn onto the road where we were stuck. We drive about five miles and we come to a very small town. It’s adorable and quaint, with a few small mom and pop shops that I just love, an auto garage, a diner-cafe, the hotel, which is more like a little bed and breakfast it seems, and a very small grocery store. Storm stops at the garage first to check on our cars, which have both been towed here already. Mine doesn’t look too bad from the outside, the front looks dented a bit, but Storm’s truck is all smashed up in the front. Seeing the damage makes me realize how lucky we are we didn’t get hurt.
“Wait here in the truck and I’ll go talk to Seth. He’s the mechanic.”
I nod okay and watch him go inside. After a few minutes, I get bored and open the glove compartment. Condoms, a bunch of guitar picks, a fork, gum, a tiny Maglite. And a black bra. Size big. I slam the little door shut, disgusted. Who leaves their bra in some guy’s glove compartment? Did she leave the truck braless with those things bouncing around? What kind of woman does that? The kind he likes, obviously. I open my purse and take out my tiny size hand sanitizer and squirt it all over my hands. Who knows what the hell was crawling around in there.
He opens the truck door and jumps in, but does a double take at me. “Is that germ gel?” he asks.
“Yes.”