Page 34 of Somewhere You Belong

“Thank you.” She hands me the receipt just as Dallas turns to face me.

“So how did you plan on getting this thing back to your house?”

“Uh, I have a car.” I point out the window to my Tesla.

He shakes his head, his smile full of amusement and cockiness. “Like this is going to fit in that.”

“Yes, it will,” I say with determination. “I can slide this into the backseat, no problem.”

He arches a brow. “Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely. Don’t underestimate me,Dallas.”

“Well, this I can’t wait to see,Willow.” The low grumble of his voice makes me wonder what my name would sound like coming off of his lips while his head is between my legs, and the thought has me tripping over the box in front of me as soon as I try to step around it.

“Whoa.” Dallas reaches out to prevent me from falling forward. “Easy, Goose.”

“Goose?” I ask incredulously when I find my footing again.

He smirks, and suddenly I want to slap that smirk off his face. “Yeah, seemed more fitting than ‘Tiger.’”

“Ha. Ha.” I fake a laugh, straighten my blouse, and then make my way out to my car, assuming that Dallas is going to carry the box out for me. Luckily, when I look back over my shoulder, he’s following with the box in his arms.

We arrive at the rear passenger door, and after I unlock it and set my purse inside, I attempt to lift the box and turn it so it will fit through the doorway. I twist and turn the box, trying various angles and approaches to make it fit. Despite my efforts, including pushing, pulling, and a bit of seat adjustment, the box refuses to comply, stubbornly remaining a few frustrating inches too big.

“Ugh. Stupid box.” I let it fall onto the asphalt beneath me just as Dallas’s laugh rings out.

“Damn. I want to say I told you so, but that was just too damn easy. Thank you for the entertainment though.”

“That’s not necessary,” I huff, glaring at him over my shoulder. “Damn it.” Irritation bubbles inside of me, more so because I have him as an audience to my monumental fail than the new problem I now have to solve.

He sighs and the sound of him scratching his chin through his beard draws my eyes back to his face.

Damn. That beard will be the death of me.

“Look. I have a little time before I have to be at the restaurant, and lucky for you, I drove my truck today. I can take it to the house for you.”

I cross my arms and eye him skeptically. “And why would you do that? Newsflash, but you and I don’t exactly get along.”

He smiles. “That’s a matter of opinion.” His gaze moves down my entire body before focusing back on my face. And the way he’s assessing me right now has my body temperature rising to levels I don’t think are healthy. “But to answer your question, sometimes people just do nice things to be nice, Willow. It’s one of the charms of living in a small town.”

“But how do I know that you’re not offering so that you can get me alone and murder me, make it look like I was crushed by this box in a freak accident, and then jump on the house the second I’m dead?”

He stares at me, blinking slowly before bursting into laughter. “Oh fuck. That’s good.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a piece of work, Goose.”

“Stop calling me that,” I seethe through clenched teeth.

He huffs out a laugh again while shaking his head. “Nope. Can’t do it. Especially now that I know it gets under your skin.”

I throw my hands up. “God, you’re a child.”

“And you need my help. So what’s it going to be, Willow?” He mimics my stance, crossing his arms and putting those strong, sinewed forearms on display, taunting me.

Silence rests between us as I debate my options, which are pretty cut and dry at this point—i.e., I have none.

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