Page 33 of True North

“Ursa Major.” His arm moves, finger pointing to the next set of stars. “This one here is Hercules.”

“Oh, there you go. I didn’t know that. Never took the time to learn them.”

“They are tricky when you first start star watching. But once you see them. You see them, you know.”

Yeah, I know. Like people. Or a person. It’s like the day I really saw Harry, I could never unsee him. He cannotnotexist to me. I sit up in a panic. I’m literally lying on some other guy’s hood, pickin’ out stars, surrounded by all this nature and beauty, and my mind is still stuck on damn repeat over Harry Rawlins.

“Brad?”

He sits up. “You need to go home?”

“No,” I say and grab his shirt. Before he gets the chance to pull from my hold, my lips are on his. He stiffens, then relaxes. I run my hands to his jaw. He makes a small groan as his hands land on my hips.

His mouth is still closed.

His eyes are probably open.

I break away.

Brown eyes, full of surprise and wonder, stare back at me. “Louisa, I want to?—”

I pull his mouth to mine.

The grimace shuddering through my body is involuntary. It’s like kissing a sibling. Hands press against my breasts. Now he gets into it? Seriously?

I push away and hold him at arm’s length. “Brad, I?—”

“I know, this is so special. I can’t believe what’s happening. My mother’s right, you are so lovely.”

I cringe on the inside.

Things are going from awkward to plain awful.

There is no chemistry here. No spark. Noanything, really.

“We should go,” I say, sliding off the hood.

“Sure, you need your rest. Up early and all.”

I don’t work Sundays, but I’ll keep that fact to myself.

We ride back into town in silence. Brad looks pleased with himself. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at him. I’m about to make a break for it and wrap up the night when he leans over. “Night, Louisa.”

His eyes close. He leans over the seat, his face so close. I dot a kiss on his cheek. “Night.”

I climb out of the car and go to shut the door when he says, “Oh, there’s a dance on next weekend. Would you like to go with me? I’m not sure about the dancing, but there’ll be a crowd and a cookout.”

He doesn’t dance. Figures.

I should say no. I should shut this down before he gets any other bright ideas for dates. Just my luck, he finally thaws, and I’m not interested.

The rumble of a pickup rollin’ through the quiet street snags my attention. I look up to it, and that blue buckboard of Harry’s squeals to a stop at one of the few intersections in Main Street.

He doesn’t notice me.

I hope.

I bend down, meeting Brad’s gaze, and force my best smile. “Sure, what time will you pick me up?”

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