Page 21 of Hit the Ground
“You headed home?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Where’s your car?”
She glanced away, her fingers tightening on her bag strap. “I walked today.”
I frowned. Her house wasn’t far, but it wasn’t exactly close either. “Let me give you a lift.”
“That’s okay. I like walking,” she said, then added, “It’s nice in the evenings.”
“It is nice, but it’s getting late. It’ll be close to dark by the time you make it to your place. I’ll drive you.” I nodded toward the street. “My truck’s right there.”
“There’s plenty of light still. Really, it’s not necessary.”
I couldn’t say why I was pressing this, just that I didn’t like the idea of her walking the quiet streets alone. And I had a feeling she wouldn’t have turned me down if I’d made the same offer a couple weeks ago—before I was a jackass to her.
“It’s not necessary, but I want to do it anyway.” I held my arm out toward my truck. “Come on. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”
She hesitated, looking up at me, her eyes shadowed in the low light. Finally, she gave a small nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
I took her bag before she could argue, and she followed me to my truck. She didn’t say anything as I opened the passenger door and set her bag on the floorboard. She climbed in, smoothing her sweater around her hips, her movements neat and quiet.
Once I was behind the wheel, I pulled out of the lot, the silence between us thick enough to chew.
After a minute, I cleared my throat. “You've been going on a lot of dates lately.”
She glanced out the window. “Not really.”
“I saw you with that guy at the diner. The one who kept making you laugh.”
She huffed. “I saw you too. And yeah, he was kind of funny.”
“And?”
“And nothing.” Her hands were stacked neatly in her lap, and her body was as close to the door as she could get without falling out.
“Not going out again?”
“He asked, but I don’t think so. We weren’t a match.”
I risked a glance at her. She was staring out the window, her reflection in the glass faint and unreadable. Guilt burrowed deep in my gut, but I didn’t know what to do with it.
“How’d you meet him? Was he a customer too?”
“No. I don’t make it a habit of asking my customers on dates. That was a one-time thing.” She tucked her hair behind her ears then shook it back out to curtain her face. “I learned from my mistake.”
Ignoring her comment, I charged on. “You didn’t say how you met him.”
“On a dating app,” she replied.
My hands flexed around my steering wheel. “Is that safe?”
“As safe as any date.” She leaned down and wrapped the strap of her bag around her hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“I wouldn’t want my sisters using those apps. You never know who you’re gonna meet.”
“Well, your sisters are married, so you don’t have to worry about it.” She pulled her bag onto her lap. “You don’t have to worry about me either.”
