Page 73 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess
By the time I walked around the hood, it felt more like cowardice.
The truck started on the second turn.
Talia settled her handbag against her knees while I backed away from the cabin. The red dress stood out against the worn seat, bright enough to pull my attention every time the road straightened.
Neither of us mentioned the empty bedroom we might return to.
The morning sun had already heated the dust drifting through the pines.
Talia watched the trees for several miles.
“How long will your inspection take?” she asked.
“Not long. The clearing work is finished. I need to walk the perimeter and check that nothing shifted or got dumped where it shouldn’t be.”
“And after the fireworks?”
“I’ll watch the area until we’re sure there aren’t sparks in the grass or brush.”
“You’re not setting anything on fire.”
“No.”
“You’re preventing everyone else from setting the town on fire.”
“The fireworks professional handles the display. I’m responsible for the vegetation around it.”
“Much less dramatic.”
“It usually is.”
Talia adjusted the gold bracelet at her wrist. “Where should I be while you work?”
“Anywhere outside the marked line.”
“That’s a broad instruction.”
“It’s a public celebration. There’ll be food, music, and people who aren’t carrying radios.”
“You make town sound dangerously social.”
“You met Mabel.”
“I survived Mabel.”
“She likes you.”
“She sold me underwear and witnessed a loan agreement. We have a bond.”
She almost smiled.
The expression disappeared when her phone lit inside the open handbag.
No sound followed. She’d left it on silent.
I kept my eyes on the road.
Talia turned the screen facedown.
