Page 30 of The Christmas Wife

"Who’s going to kidnap me here?" She waves a hand in the air.

"Things are not as safe as they seem."

She huffs, "You’re acting too dramatic."

"No, that’s you."

She strokes Max’s head and addresses him, "What are you doing here?"

"If you’re going to stay in the car, you may as well turn on the heater."

"It’s my car?—"

"No mistaking that." I glance around the cramped space. My knees are almost doubled up in front of me. I lean down, grab the lever to push the seat back.

"What are you doing?—?"

The grip comes off in my hand. I stare at it.

"Yeah… I was going to warn you..." Her voice trails off.

"Does this thing even start up?" I reach for the car keys, but she grabs them first.

"Stop insulting KITT."

I stare. "You named your car after?—"

"Knight Rider." She nods, then brightens. "You know about the series?"

"This isn’t anything like that KITT," I growl.

"Shh," she pats the dash, "you’ll upset her."

"Of course, your car had to be female." A headache begins to drum behind my eyes.

"Why not? KITT isn’t the prerogative for a male name."

"What-fucking-ever." I massage my temples.

"You’re a sore loser."

"The only thing getting sore here are my knees."

"I know you're getting along in your years…but maybe you need to get that looked at."

I scowl.

Her lips kick up and her entire face brightens. Damn, when she smiles, her features resemble those of an angel…No. What?Hello, bloody Christmas spirit must be getting to me.

"I’m not old."

"You’re older than me."

"You’re what, twenty-five?" I snicker.

"If you wanted to know my age, you only had to ask."

"Like I bloody care?"

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