“I want that too, but there’s no need in paying for your room when you spend every night in mine anyway.”
His grin steals my breath. “You want me to stay in your cottage?”
I feel like my face might split in two with my enormous grin. “Yes, please.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips. “Dream girl, you’ve got yourself a roommate.”
Chapter 20
Mine.
Thatwaseitherthesmartest or the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. The jury’s still out. But I feel happier right now than I’ve felt in months. Maybe years.
Ten more days. That should be enough to get this obsession with Juliette McNamara out of my system, right?
My hand rests on her bare thigh as I navigate through the thicket of trees, my thumb drawing lazy circles on her smooth flesh. Juliette’s wearing her silver bikini top and those hot little fringed shorts that had me biting my knuckle when she walked out of the cottage with them on this morning.
“What’s your favorite animal?” she asks.
“Hmm, dogs are cool, I guess. What about you?”
“Goats,” she replies without pause, and it makes me laugh. I’ve begun to expect the unexpected with Juliette.
“What do you like about goats?”
“Besides the fact that they’re freaking adorable?” she asks, squeezing my forearm. “Well, they’re nature’s weed eaters. Just put a couple goats in your yard, and they take care of everything.”
“Do you have any goats?” I ask.
“Oh, heavens no. My backyard is way too small. One day I’d like a big backyard where I can put a couple goats and sit on the back porch and watch them run and jump and play.” She giggles, anddamn, she is so cute. “I may or may not follow, like, tendifferent goat accounts on Instagram.”
“I hope you—” I’m cut off when the vehicle begins to make a whining noise. “What the hell is that?”
Juliette scrunches her face. “Might be the starter.” She leans over and looks at the display before tapping her finger on a lit up symbol. “Uh-oh.”
“Battery light,” I groan, pulling the car over again.
Popping the hood release switch, I hop out of the vehicle and lift it. I’m not a mechanic, but maybe I can see if there’s anything obvious going on. Juliette appears beside me, peering in at the engine. A quick glance beneath the hood tells me I have no fucking clue what’s wrong so I pull out my phone.
“I’ll call the resort, and they’ll send someone to get us.” I tap on the screen and frown when I’m unable to get a signal. “I’m going to walk up on that rise and see if I can get my phone to work. Stay right here,” I tell Juliette, giving her a reassuring kiss on the lips.
Turning to the right, I make my way up the hill, praying I can get in touch with someone. If not, we’ll have to walk back. It would be faster if I just ran the last couple miles, but I’d feel uncomfortable leaving Juliette by herself. Nope. Not doing that.
Five minutes later, I trudge back down the hill, annoyed that I still couldn’t get a signal. Probably because of all the damn trees. When I reach the road, my feet falter when I see Juliette with her head beneath the hood, and I break into a jog. What the hell is she doing? She’s going to hurt herself.
“Hey,” she says, shooting me a look over her shoulder when she hears me. “I found the problem. The alternator belt slipped off.”
“I, uh, what?”
“Alternator belt,” she repeats, turning her attention back to the engine. That’s when I notice she’s holding a socket wrench.
“Where did you get that?” I ask suspiciously.
“Toolbox in the back,” she says all nonchalantly. “Can you turn on the light on your phone, pretty please?”
I should tell her not to mess with anything, but all I can do is hold my light up and stare dumbfounded while she loosens a bolt on what seems to be the alternator. Then she stuffs the wrench into the back pocket of her jean shorts and starts to work the dark-gray belt back over the pulleys. A faded red rag hangs out of the other pocket.
What in the fucking fuck is going on right now?
