Page 52 of Unstable

“I just got through establishing my dominance as the man in this relationship.” He must feel me tense up because he chuckles lightly and adds, “Oh, it’s a relationship, Darlin’. Start wrapping your brain around that too. And seeing as how we just settled that I’m the man, I’m not answering your question."

Alright, we’ll play it his way, in the interest of time…and the fact that I know exactly what makes him tick, thoroughly enjoying it more and more each and every time I get him all riled up.

“What, not man enough to answer?” I taunt, staring forward with a straight face, seeing him squirm in my peripheral. Yep, hit the right nerve dead-on…bulls-eye!

“Bourbon, bark if you can make it long enough for me to pull this truck over and show your mama here just how man enough I am,” he calls over his shoulder.

But Bourbon gives only a low whimper.

“Okay buddy, I hear ya. I’m hurrying.” His brow creases. He’s sincerely worried about my beloved pet.

So am I.

I fidget, chewing on the side of my thumb when Keaton lets out a conceding huff. “At the risk of sounding like a woman, I’m gonna tell ya. But only because I don’t want you worrying yourself to death, gnawing off your thumb before we get there. Damn this drive. You can’t throw a rock without hitting some kind of animal in Ashfall, and yet, no veterinarian. Somebody with the good sense to open a clinic in town sure would make a pretty penny.”

They sure would… and they’d be helping animals, as well as their owners. I wonder how many pets haven’t made it because of the long drive when immediate care could’ve saved them?

I pull out my phone and start a list of my own—

1. See about schooling to become a vet.

2. Or look into funding to get the town to hire one.

“You making plans for the future over there?” he asks, his hopefulness evident.

“Yeah.” I tuck my phone away. “I was, actually.”

“They include Ashfall?”

“Yep.”

His hand releases mine and moves to my thigh. “I like hearing that,” he murmurs smooth and deep. “Like it a whole lot.”

“Know what I’d like hearing?” I force some sass, even though I’m feeling quite the opposite. Staring at his hand on my thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm has me battling an urgent case of nervous exhilaration.

“How I found you in the tree, I know. You’re letting me touch your thigh though, so hell, I’d tell ya the combination to my safe right now.” He takes his eyes off the road for a split second to dazzle me with an ornery smile.

“I watched ya,” he mumbles out and then stops, as if that explains everything.

Three. Words.

Without a doubt, world’s worst storyteller ever.

“Watched me what, get stuck in the tree? Why’d you take so long to come help me then? And watched me how? From where? Use your words, Keaton. More than three, please.”

A laugh escapes him as he takes the turn into Goodman, the bordering town with the clinic. “I watched ya a lot, from wherever, with binoculars. Watched ya ride, swim, go for your walks, whatever,” he shrugs. “Lost sight of you that day in all the trees, and when you didn’t come back out, I came hunting for ya.”

“You watched me through binoculars?” My request for clarification is enunciated in slow shock, making absolutely sure I heard him correctly.

“That’s what I said. Found ‘em in the attic one day, they were my grandpa’s. Figured what the hell, did it once, then it became habit. And I gotta say, Hen, pretty disappointed in ya. Who doesn’t try skinny dipping at least once?” He shakes his head with a tsk.

“Me, that’s who. And thank God I didn’t. Freakin’ ‘I Spy’ over there.” I should feel creeped out, or angry, seeing as how my privacy was beyond invaded…but I feel neither. As many years as I spent hating him, one other constant remained—any time I was hurt, in a bind, scared—Keaton was always magically, not so mysteriously now, right there to take care of me.

Man, what a clueless, blind fool I was. Not about the binoculars, who would’ve guessed that? No, I was blind to him, and all the great things that included.

And then, for what reason I haven’t the faintest idea, I ask, “Did you, um, watch her too?”

“Watch who, Hen?”

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