Page 102 of The Bad Girl List

“Were you out hiking today?”

“I was, before your dad called. He said he knew I was looking for a job and had a great opportunity to tell me about. So instead of going on a hike and a picnic with my family, I lied and pretended I had to go home with period cramps. Then your dad gave me a dream job offer, brought me up here, and ditched me with you.”

And ditched me with you. If I harbored any doubts about how she feels about me, I don’t anymore.

God, I have fucked up royally. I try to think of something to say. “My dad was sincere about the job offer. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.”

“He lied to my face. He said he was bringing me up here for the views.” Her mouth twists into an angry line.

We walk in silence the rest of the way to my truck, which is parked on the far side of the picnic grove where I was working. There are just enough trees to provide shade so my car won’t turn into a microwave. I’m not sure how I feel about Dad hiring her, but I can’t worry about that now.

I open the passenger side door for Dom. She climbs in without looking at me. Tequila hops in after her.

As I round the back of the truck, I pause and lean on the tailgate. Emotions are boiling inside me. I don’t know if I want to beg Dom for forgiveness or get her back to her VRBO as quickly as possible.

I force my feet to move. As I open the driver’s door, I’m greeted with the sight of my dog sitting in Dom’s lap. Tequila’s eyebrows draw together as she regards me. Dom stares at my dog’s back, running her hands over the light brown fur. My dog’s obvious infatuation moves something inside me.

“Dad,” I say in my high-pitched, mock-dog voice, “why did you treat my second-favorite person on the planet like a complete dickhead?”

Dom’s face snaps in my direction, her eyes widening.

I reach out and scratch Tequila under the chin. Her eyelids partially close, her tail thumping loudly against the closed door.

“I don’t know, Tequila,” I say. “I didn’t mean to be an asshole. It just … happened.”

Dom’s brow furrows. When she looks at me, it’s impossible to miss the hurt in her eyes. I feel like an even bigger dick than before.

“Dad, that’s a terrible reason to mistreat someone who’s been nice to you. You really need to apologize to her.”

“You’re right, Tequila. I really need to apologize, but I don’t know how.”

Dom lets her head thump back onto the seat. “Trevor.”

I continue on in my Tequila voice. “You might be my dad, and I love you, but you can be a real dummy sometimes. If you don’t apologize to my friend, I just might eat your favorite boots the next time you leave them unattended in the kitchen.”

Dom turns to look at me. The silence gathers. Tequila whines.

“I’m sorry, Dom.”

She lets out a small sigh. “It’s okay, Trevor. Believe it or not, I get it. You’re still in love with Elle.” She shakes her head and looks away.

I wish I knew what she was thinking. I wish she would yell at me, or insult me, or do something I can respond to. Her soft understanding of the situation somehow makes what I did seem even worse, and I have no idea what to say or do next.

“Can you take me back to my house now, please?” she says.

“Okay.” I climb reluctantly into the truck, wishing there was something I could say to get her to stay here with me. Except why would she want to stay way the hell out here with me and my cow horns? Even if we were on better terms, I can’t think of one reason why picking cow manure out of horns would interest her.

I turn the key in the ignition. The engine sputters. I pump the brake a few times and try again. The engine sputters again, but nothing else happens.

“What’s wrong?” Dom asks.

“Dead battery.” I grimace.

Her eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“Um, it means we have to walk three miles to the nearest vehicle.”

“Are you kidding me?” she cries. “We’re stuck out here?” Her distress is obvious.

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