Page 52 of Cross Check Christmas
"What?" He dangles the keys.
"I can't drive stick." I mumble the words, feeling my cheeks heat up.
"What was that?"
"I said I can't drive stick!" I cross my arms.
His eyebrows shoot up. "Really?”
I take a deep breath. "It’s fine. I'll figure something else out."
"I could drive you."
"No." The word flies out before I can stop it.
The thought of being trapped in a vehicle with Hendrix for hours after everything that happened... after that almost-kiss in Grannie's craft room...
"It's not a big deal," he says breezily. "I've got nothing else going on today."
"Maybe I'll catch a ride with?—"
"With who? Tucker's doing inventory and Daisy's got deliveries all day." He twirls the keys around his finger. "Face it. I'm your best option."
I press my lips together, glancing at my useless car, then back at Hendrix's stupid handsome face.
"Come on,” he says. “It makes sense. I know the roads, I know the truck, and bonus—I won't strand you anywhere." He grins at that last part.
"I deserved that," I mutter. "But still no."
"What's the alternative? Leave poor Genghis Khan alone and hungry?"
I glare at him. He knows I can't say no—not when there's a cat involved. "You promise no funny business?"
"Cross my heart." He mimes an X over his chest.
"Fine," I grit out. "But I'm picking the music."
I step out of Hendrix's truck, my boots crunching in the fresh snow as I hurry up Michelle's walkway. My cousin’s cottage sits nestled against the shoreline, looking like something straight out of a Christmas card with its frost-dusted windows and snow-laden roof.
Behind me, Hendrix whistles at the view of the frozen lake stretching out beyond the back deck.
"Your cousin's got quite the setup here."
I fumble with the spare key, trying not to think about how this is the third time I've been trapped in a vehicle with him recently. The universe seems determined to keep throwing us together in confined spaces. At least he was quiet on the drive up. The silence suited me fine.
"Storm's coming in fast." Hendrix points at the dark clouds rolling across the lake. "We should hurry."
I fish the spare key from under a garden gnome and unlock the door. "Khan? Here kitty!"
The house answers with silence. No meowing, no bell jingling from his collar, no massive Maine Coon appearing to demand attention.
"Khan?" I check the kitchen first - his food bowl sits untouched. The living room yields nothing but scattered cat toys.
"Maybe he's upstairs?" Hendrix suggests from the doorway.
I race up the stairs, checking each room. Empty. Empty. Empty.
"He has to be here somewhere." My voice rises with panic as I return to the main floor. "Khan doesn't go outside. He's strictly indoor-only."
