“I’ve decided to poison you,” I announced acidly.
He burst out laughing then took a right at the end of the road. I looked out the windscreen and crossed my arms on my chest.
“I wasn’t being amusing.”
“Impossible.”
My neck twisted and I looked at him. “I wasn’t!”
“Let me get this straight, I nurse you through a fever and you thank me by poisoning me?”
“You’re holding me prisoner.”
“Honey, you rented the house for two weeks, that’s hardly holding you prisoner.”
“I rented a house that was supposed to be vacant.”
“Lucky for you, seein’ as you got so sick, it wasn’t.”
He had a point there.
“And, today, it was, save you,” he went on.
He had a point there too.
I decided to be quiet.
Quiet wasn’t good because Max seemed comfortable with quiet and my mind wandered. It wandered to what he was doing all day. And then it wandered to what he was doing all day with Becca. And then it wandered to the fact he was with Becca at all. And then it wandered to wondering who Becca was. None of this was my business but I wanted to ask even though I knew I shouldn’t care. Then I realized I did care and I worried about what that meant.
We hit town and it was busy, busier than I’d expect for a small town in the mountains on a Tuesday night. It was also pretty. When I’d driven through it, considering the snowstorm and my state of mind, I didn’t pay much attention. I knew from the internet advertisement that it was an old gold mining town that made it even after all these years, lately because of tourist trade due to its proximity to popular ski slopes, its shops, restaurants and the fact that it was pretty. The buildings looked old by American standards, not, obviously, English. And the sidewalks were wooden boardwalks with wooden railings like you’d hitch a horse too. There were more than a few shops that looked interesting. If I ever got my car keys back, I was definitely going to explore.
After I checked into the hotel which, on our drive through town, I also noted its location.
“Can you walk in those boots?” Max asked into the quiet cab.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I mean more than a few feet.”
“Yes,” I answered, this time curtly.
“Just askin’, Duchess, seein’ as we have to park a ways away.”
“I’ll be fine.”
We parked in town though I didn’t know if it was “a ways away” from where we were going. However when he parked, he parked with the passenger side by an enormous pile of snow that had obviously been created by removing it from the roads. And he parked so close I couldn’t open my door.
I looked out the window at the mound of snow then back at Max.
“I don’t think I can open my door.”
He didn’t answer at first. He just opened his door and got out.
Then he leaned in, reached an arm toward me and said, “Crawl over.”
“Crawl over?”
“Crawl over the seat.”