Page 20 of Blindsided By the Enforcer

“If you say so,” I answer, not wanting to argue.

“Make a right at the next turn.”

“Waze says to make a left,” I reply.

“Dude, Waze doesn’t always work properly in these parts. There can be spotty internet connections. I know where I live,” she insists, giving me sass.

“Okay, if we get lost it’s on you.” I follow her direction.

She huffs at my response and when I quickly gaze over at her, she’s rolling her eyes.

I make the turn and a couple minutes later, sure enough, there is a sign that says Caufield Family Farm.

“I’m not going to say I told you so,” she goads.

“Good.”

“You need to follow the windy road now. The house is at the end,” she explains.

“Are your parents going to be cool with me staying with you?” I want to confirm, even if it is a little late. It’s dark out now. I would never find my way to town from here.

“Mom might be a little cold. She wants me back together with Ford. Dad should be cool,” she says.

“Gotcha,” I reply. I feel like I may be walking into a lion’s den if her mom is anything like my dad.

We pull up to the house and Annie reaches for her puffer jacket in the back seat. I lick my lips, watching her exposed skin.

She slips on her puffer. I get out of the car to slip my own winter jacket on.

“Is it okay to leave my car out here?” I ask.

There is a long windy driveway, and I don’t see another car in sight.

“I can ask Daddy if we can pull your car into the garage,” she offers. “We can get heavy snowfalls this time of year.”

I reach my arms up and stretch. A loud yawn escapes me after driving a couple hours. My stomach also grumbles.

“Come, let’s get settled in. I can make us something to eat,” she offers.

I go to the trunk and take out her suitcase and mine.

“I can help with the suitcases,” she offers.

“I’m a strong guy, Annie. I’m not letting you carry your suitcase.”

“You’re so chivalrous,” she teases, batting her lashes playfully.

This girl is trouble.

I follow her into her home. “Hello?” she calls out.

A dog comes running to the door.

“Hi, Rocky.” Annie smiles cheerfully. The dog starts walking between her legs, wagging his tale. He goes back and forth a few times before she kneels down to hug him and he licks her cheek.

Then he’s checking me out.

“Do you like dogs?” Annie asks.

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