Page 23 of One Bad Idea
There was the truck, too.
The reminder was the perfect cold splash to the warm, funny feelings dancing in my stomach. I gave him a no-nonsense look. "So tell me, how'd you get in?"
"In what?" he asked.
I pointed toward the open passenger's side door. "That."
"You mean the truck?"
Through gritted teeth, I replied. "Of course I mean the truck. What else would I mean?"
He shrugged. "You tell me."
Oh, I wanted to tell him, alright.Unfortunately, calling him names would only waste time. "Well?" I demanded. "How'd you get in?"
He flicked his head toward the truck bed. "Through the slider."
I gave a confused shake of my head. "The slider?"
"The rear window."
"Oh."
"It slides open. You know that, right?"
Ihadn'tknown.
But so what?
Even now, I didn't know much about the truck at all, except that it guzzled gas, drove like a brick, and had no air conditioning whatsoever.
Oh yeah – and if Stuart made good on his threats, that godawful truck would be the thing that landed me straight in jail.
In front of me, the guy was saying, "You should've locked it."
"Oh, so it'smyfault you broke in?"
"I didn't break in," he said. "I crawled in. Big difference."
"It is not."
"Sure it is," he said, giving the window a quick glance. "You see anything broken?"
"Oh come on. You know what I mean."
"I'm just saying—"
"Well, don’t," I snapped.
None of this was going how I'd anticipated. It's not like I'd expected him to grovel at my feet or anything, but seriously, shouldn't he be at least alittleashamed to be caught in the act of, well, whatever he'd been doing.
When he made no reply, I pointed toward his hips. "Maybe you should get your ass off my truck."
At this, his eyebrows lifted. "Yourtruck?"
Now,thatmade me pause.Oh, crap.
Did he know something?In what I hoped was a casual tone, I asked,"What do you mean by that?"
