Page 7 of Denial
“Noted.” I grin at the windshield. “If you can find me a place to go line dancing, I’ll be all set.”
The whirr of the air-conditioning fills the gap in conversation.
“You’re going to miss it, aren’t you? Home that is.”
“What? No. No, I’m fine. I’ll miss Archie, that’s for sure. He sure knows how to spin a girl around a dance floor, but that’s it. Arizona was so hot and dry and…” I grasp for something else to convince her this is the best decision for me without divulgingtoo much. I haven’t exactly told her the reason for my relocation, aside from my lease being up, which is technically true. I settle with, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I can hardly believe you’re almost here.”
“I’ll be pulling up before you know it.”
“You have the address?”
“My GPS is taking me straight there.”
“Okay! I’ll let Cortney know. You’re really doing everyone a big favor, and they’re excited to meet you.”
Before I can answer, a shrieking cry sounds through the line.
“That’s my cue to go. Soren is into everything these days.”
“Give him a kiss from Auntie Alice, and I’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck! I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”
“You know me. I’ll charm the pants off them and make a good impression for you.”
“Just be yourself. They’ll love you.”
Soren screeches insistently again. “Okay, got to run. Call me after.”
“Bye.”
A quick tap on the dashboard ends the call. I check the GPS. I have about twenty-five minutes left until I reach my destination. Whitney has a family friend who is in urgent need of a nanny, and I just so happen to be excellent with kids.
Win-freaking-win.
The sun feels great on my face as I drive down the highway. It’s not the blistering heat I’m used to. Just warm enough to keep me content. I’m grateful this sudden trip across the country happened during the warmer months. I need a little time to get used to my move before I experience my first true Minnesota winter. I’ve heard the horror stories, and I’m not sure my cactus or I are ready to survive the icy cold.
Winter has its benefits. I’ve heard crime is down in the colder months. Maybe that applies to podcasters with a penchant for stalking too.
I push away thoughts of the package and the phone calls. I left it all back in Arizona. Metaphorically, in the prison cell with my brother, where it all belongs. His mess isn’t mine to clean up. It never was.
With my hand halfway to the radio dial, a flash of red and blue decorates my rearview.
“Oh no,” I mutter. “I’d better get out of his way.” I ease the car onto the shoulder, giving the officer plenty of room to pass.
Uh. The cruiser pulling to a slow stop behind me is rather unexpected.
I stab the window button, watching as it lowers. Leaning slightly out, I paste on a bubbly smile. The sight of the wall of muscle approaching nearly has me choking on my tongue. Holy shit. No wonder why Whitney moved here and fell in love. I think this might be the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
He’s tall, with a warm tan spanning over hard-earned muscles—at least from what I can see of his arms. His dark hair is threaded with sexy streaks of silver and he has a matching salted trimmed beard.
“Hi! You must be the welcome committee because I know I wasn’t speeding.”
The dark glasses covering his eyes give nothing away. “License and insurance.”
“Oh, um.” A glance to my right reveals a mountain of a mess. The black strap of my purse sticks out from the top. “Here it is. I’m in the middle of moving, and things are a little disorganized.”
