Page 21 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“We?”

“Well, you’re stuck here unless you have a second vehicle.” He looked around, spotted her Vespa parked near the side of the house under a light and frowned. “We have a home game tomorrow night, so you can’t wait for Clint.” Leo had his phone out again. “I’ll catch a ride into the city with Dylan tonight, if he hasn’t headed back already. You can take my car tomorrow.”

Violet cringed. While she loved how Leo was stepping in to help, she also hated it. Not because he was rescuing her, but because he was going to ask someone for help who had teased him so relentlessly throughout dinner tonight. And sure, Leo, in several cases, had definitely started it. But still. There was some weird power struggle happening there. Or maybe it was simply a guy thing. Either way, it was weird and she didn’t know whether to laugh along like everyone else or try to put a stop to it.

“It’s fine. I’ll tell Daisy-Mae she has to drive me.”

“I’ll pick up the battery in the morning.” Leo continued as though she hadn’t protested. “Then after the game we can drive out here in my car, replace your battery, and you’ll be good to go for Sunday morning if you need to be anywhere.”

“Leo!”

“What?”

“That’s a ridiculous plan.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“First of all, how are you going to get a battery tomorrow morning with no car? Second, it’s way too much driving—especially after tomorrow’s game.” They wouldn’t get out here to swap out her battery—in the dark—until midnight, at the very least.

“First of all,” he said, emulating her tone, “they have these things in the city called ride sharing, taxis, buses, limos…”

She snorted. “You’re going to take a limo to the auto parts store?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“You won’t.” She knew him. He wasn’t flashy. He was a cowboy through and through. Conservative. Careful. Considerate. The man probably had at least ten grand stuffed under his mattress “just in case.” Ten grand that would still be there after his death because he’d never spend it. And in the meantime, he’d drive that old Toyota. “A limo? Come on.”

He frowned and crossed his arms, giving her a long look. “Wanna bet?”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe I’m ridiculous.”

“That you are. And this, right here, is why we’re friends, but will never be lovers,” she said, laughing. “We’re too different. I can get a boost tomorrow, then drive into the city to find a place to get this all fixed before the game.” She dusted her hands together. “Look at that. Non-ridiculous problem solving.”

“Maybe I enjoy being ridiculous.”

“I don’t believe you can do frivolous and ridiculous. That’s actually where you’re like me—you don’t have it in you.”

“Really?”

She leaned forward. “Really.”

“Be at my place tomorrow morning at seven.”

“Seven? No way.”

“Scared to see yourself proven wrong about my ridiculousness?”

“How will I get there so early? The guy who drives the tow truck would kill me if I woke him up at 4:00 or 5:00 a.m. for a non-emergency.”

“I said seven.”

“I need boosting and driving time.”

“But you’re taking my car and I’m going to—”

“No way. He was mean to you!”

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