"I mean, the truck's not yours."
I felt myself swallow.So he knew? How?
In the back of my mind, I had visions of police cars screeching up to the house, and then – I gave a hard swallow – one of them leaving with me in the back, cuffed and stuffed like a common criminal.
The image was more than a little disturbing.
And hestillhadn't answered my question.
I made a sound of frustration. "Are you gonna answer or not?"
Amusement danced in his eyes. "You're awful bossy for someone so little."
I felt my gaze narrow. "Are you calling me short?"
"No. I'm calling you fun-sized."
What was this? Another so-called joke?If so, I was in no mood. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant.Fun sized? Like what? One of those bite-sized candy bars?
Candy bars were sweet.
And delicious.
Everyone loved candy bars.
Was this some sort of come-on?
No. Definitely not.
The whole time I'd been here, he'd shown exactly zero interest in me – not that Iwantedhim to show interest. After all, I wasn't interested inhimeither.
Not one bit.
Really, I wasn't.
Deliberately, I changed the subject. "Alright, if you're so smart, whose truck is it?"
He flashed me a wicked grin. "Mine."
Annoying or not, my shoulders sagged in relief. It was an obvious joke. Or maybe he was hoping to goad me into flipping out again. Either way, I was just glad that he hadn't mentioned the real owner – a guy with no sense of humor whatsoever, especially when it came to his "sweet baby."
Yes, thatwasStuart's favorite pet name.
For the truck.
Not me.
Just the thought of my ex was enough to make me feel slightly nauseous. He'd made some pretty serious threats. Would he make good on them?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Either way, I needed to get back to Nashville – and fast.
Deliberately, I sidled around the Shirtless Wonder and climbed into the passenger's side of the truck. I turned in the seat and shut the so-called slider. And then, I locked it for good measure.
As I did, I watched the stranger from the corner of my eye. He was still leaning against the truck. But now, he was leaning forward, toward the truck bed, watching me through the rear window.