Page 37 of Bound By Love

“I’m sure you’ll get used to driving around here,” Mr. Watson said as he grabbed yet another breadstick. They were delicious, and I assumed homemade. I’d only eaten half of mine so far.

Strangely, everyone made eye contact with one another, again, except for Derek. Why I gave him so much thought, I didn’t know.

“Oh, you’ll love having four seasons here,” Mrs. Watson said with a serene expression. I appreciated her relaxed demeanor.

“Derek, Anna’s car was making a grinding noise when she tried to start it. What do you think is wrong with it?” Brea asked. She nudged my elbow. “Derek is an automotive genius.”

He looked at her. “Could be the oil isn’t circulating. What year is it?”

What the hell?He asked a question that should have been directed to me, but he didn’t look my way. Weird.

“I don’t know the year.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. Of course that was when his eyes connected with mine.

“How do you not know the year of your car?” he asked with an edge in his tone, slicing me open while his befuddled expression made me feel stupid.

“Because it didn’t matter to me. It’s a Subaru Outback, if that helps.”

“Make and model is good to know, but the year is important too. When did you buy it? Was it bought new?” His questions were making me uneasy.

“It’s red.” I rolled my eyes again.

Brea and her brother Owen snorted, but Derek ignored them. His gaze was hard on mine.

“When was the last time you took it in for an oil change? Or a tune-up? You had it serviced before driving it up from California to Washington, right?”

Stop grilling me!

“I don’t know anything!” I covered my mouth and my cheeks flamed red hot. I didn’t mean to snap. I stood from my chair, feeling all of two feet tall. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right through there, second door on the right, dear,” Mrs. Watson said, pointing toward the doorway the guys had walked through.

“Thank you.” I rushed out, on the verge of hyperventilating. What was wrong with that guy? Did I ruin his lasagna dinner with my presence? He probably thought I was a ditzy woman for not knowing anything about my car. Shit, he wouldn’t be wrong. I was ignorant when it came to cars.

I breathed in and out, hand on my stomach. The smell of the lasagna was strong in the half bathroom. Dammit. I had been enjoying the homecooked meal and pleasantries until Derek spoke.

“Anna? Are you okay?” Brea knocked softly on the door.

“Um, yeah. I… um…”

“I’m sorry about Derek.”

I opened the door. “Really, I’m okay,” I whispered, forcing a smile.

“No. You’re not. He didn’t have to overwhelm you with all those questions during dinner. He just likes cars and takes it all very seriously. If you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh, I could tell.” I looked down at my shoes.

“I promise he won’t say another word. Mom scolded him.” She snickered.

“Oh my gosh. She didn’t have to do that. I just got flustered. It’s not his fault.”

“It is his fault. Ever since his fiancée ditched him at the altar two years ago, women, in general, set him off. It’s time he got past it all. We’re not all evil.”

“True. That’s awful he was left at the altar.” I felt horrible about my behavior and sad for Derek. I’d planned a few weddings that ended with a runaway bride. My heart always broke for the groom who looked excited and dashing in a tux and then devastated as he left his spot by the officiant. I never understood how a bride would let it get so far. If her feelings changed, why not tell the poor guy before the big day and spare him the humiliation?

“Will you come back to finish dinner?” Brea asked.

“Yes, I’m feeling better. Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay?”

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