A Sweet Mess - Jayci Lee Page 0,28
Alfa Romeo Giulia. She’d recognize that V-shaped grill anywhere. When she was a teenager, the Alfa Romeo 159 had been her favorite vehicle to steal from her father for a joyride. He’d collected cars like he collected women. There were never enough, and a new model always caught his eye.
She hated how her father intruded her thoughts at random moments, casting a heavy net of loss and bleakness around her. And as irrational as it was, she really hated Landon having anything in common with him. Even a stupid car.
“Thank you for coming for me,” she said, shoving aside her irritation.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, surprise and shy pleasure marking his features. “So where do you want to set up camp?”
“What?” Aubrey shook her head as she fought the effects of the Smile.
Her brain did a hard shutdown in preparation for a reboot. Bing, bing. Reboot complete. Landon had found her. He’d barreled down the road, yelled at her, and done a bit of the caveman thing, but hadn’t kissed her. Her eyes narrowed with renewed annoyance.
“You said you wanted to camp before going to Bosque Verde.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and smoothed his expression into a loaded blank. “Show me where you were headed. I want to see this place you’d endangered yourself for.”
“For the record, I did not endanger myself. I know these woods well, and my Jeep doesn’t make a habit of dying on me.” Since I don’t drive it more than five miles a day. She should stop explaining herself. It made her sound guilty. “Speaking of my car, I can’t just leave it in the woods.”
“Why not? It looks as though it belongs here—a primeval relic revered by the forest.”
“Feeling poetic, are we?”
“I made arrangements to have it retrieved.” Landon shrugged. “It’ll be repaired and returned to Weldon.”
“A tow truck will ramble up the mountain to find it in the middle of nowhere?” Aubrey smacked her forehead with her palm. “It’s so simple.”
“Yes, it is.” His raised brow accentuated his arrogant, perplexed expression, and her lips pressed into a thin line.
Cocky bastard.
“Could you pop the trunk?” he said as though they were done with the topic. She complied wordlessly, and he grabbed her bags and headed toward his car. Seriously?
“I can’t afford to have someone come all the way up here and then drive out to Weldon.” She hefted her tent onto her shoulder and grabbed her duffel bag. Landon reached out to take her load, but she marched past him and dropped them into his trunk. “It’ll cost a fortune.”
“I took care of it,” he said over his shoulder as he went for the rest of her stuff. She followed him. “Getting you to Bosque Verde on time and in one piece is more important to me. To the show, I mean.”
“Okay,” she nearly yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine.”
He chose to “take care of it,” and she couldn’t undo it, and she certainly didn’t have the money to repay him. She and Tara read during their recon that he’d sold a food blog for millions of dollars in his twenties. He probably had money to burn. Besides, he could expense it to the show as “guest chef rescue fees.”
Aubrey gathered all the blankets under one arm and carried the grocery bag in her free hand. When Landon pulled out the cooler, his back and biceps flexing, her trunk was empty at last. She dropped off her armload in his trunk and hid her keys in the Jeep’s glove compartment, then hesitated. She doubted anyone would happen upon it, but she took her vehicle registration and insurance documents just in case.
“Which way?” Landon said once they were both seated and buckled up.
“You see that fork in the road a few yards away?”
“No, I see trees and dirt.”
“Fine.” She sighed a short ha. The universal sound of forbearance. “You see where the trees thin a little in two directions? Go left and follow the road.”
“Are you sure we won’t drive off a cliff?”
“No,” she said morosely. “Prepare to plunge to your death.”
Landon’s laughter filled the car as he maneuvered through the narrow, bumpy path, and Aubrey couldn’t hold back her smile. She was in a ridiculous situation of her own making, and being surly to the man who’d dropped everything to come to her rescue was plain rude of her.
“Wait,” she said in a hushed tone, her pulse kicking into a sprint. His intent didn’t dawn on her until