Page 29 of Plight
Helping her swivel around, I placed my hands on her shoulders and held her against my chest. “So, there you have it,” I announced. “We’re in love, engaged … and taking things slow. We haven’t set a date and there’s no baby on the way.”
“If any of this changes,” Danielle chimed in, her voice still quiet, “you’ll both be the first to know, okay?”
Mum and Jeanette nodded.
“Good. Right,” she continued, more sprightly. “Let’s get back to work shall we?” She nodded to herself then turned to face me, giving me a friendly and encouraging double-pat on the chest.
I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress my laugh. I also slid my hands into my jean pockets, grinned from ear-to-ear, and rocked back on my heels. “Yes, let’s do that.”
“We need to talk,” Danielledemanded, right before yanking me behind the gum tree by the collar.
I corrected my footing and leaned against the trunk, my arms crossed over my chest, my legs crossed at the ankles. It had been roughly two hours since she kissed me, and I’d been eagerly waiting for her to pull me aside and do it again.
“Don’t give me that cocky attitude.”
I laughed. “What cocky attitude?”
“That!” She pointed at me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You’re acting smug because I kissed you.”
“And why’d you do that exactly?” I asked … tapping my chin with added smugness.
“Because I didn’t want you confessing and ruining the happy vibe we have here at the site. We have a job to do, and I want to get it done in the best way possible.”
My eyebrow rose suspiciously. “That’s it? It wasn’t because you wanted another taste?”
She growled. “No, Elliot, it wasn’t.”
“More lies.”
“I’m not lying.” Danielle gritted her teeth, her eyes boring into mine.
Fed up with her bullshit, I secured her arm, spun her around, and caged her in against the tree trunk with my arms. “Enough of the lies. This isn’t what we do.”
Her eyes searched mine but seemed to want to search anywhere else instead.
“I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you’re continuing to feed me bullshit.”
She swallowed, arched her head back, and looked toward the sky, taking a moment to answer. “I don’t know either.”
“Then stop,” I pleaded, my voice low.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “Fine.”
“Good. Let’s start with the bullshit that is Chris?”
She shook her head.
“Danielle …” I warned.
“Okay, he’s not my boyfriend.”
A smile formed on my face, and I traced my finger down the side of her cheek. “There. Was that so hard?”
Her eyes shot open, and I swear that for a split second she morphed into the Terminator — her eyes red, beady, and murderous — right before her hands found my chest and she shoved me with the force of a boxing kangaroo. “Don’t patronize me.”
