Page 41 of True North

I train my focus back to the food and finish it up as quickly as politely possible. Following it down with a glass of water, I set my cutlery on my plate.

“I should really go home.” My words are harsh against the silence stretching between us. And I flinch when they land, sending Harry’s eyes up to mine.

“Yep.” He drops his cutlery and stands.

I follow suit, collecting my plate and walking it to the sink. “Can I help you put the food away?” I offer.

“I think Ma can handle it, Louisa.”

He gives me a suspect look, with one eyebrow raised. Does he think I’m trying to prolong this all-day visit? The one I hadn’t planned on?

Hell. I was supposed to meet Brad after lunch. Dammit. I’d forgotten all about it. So caught up in being part of this little family for just a moment.

“I’m sure she can.” I grab my bag and give the kitchen a glance. It’s still a fair bit of clean up.

No, you know what, Harry can help her.

I stalk toward the front door. I slide on my shoes and push through the door.

“Hey?” a gruff voice calls from behind me. “Thanks for dinner.” He nods and turns on his heels, disappearing into the candlelit dining room, his tall figure no more than a moving shadow looking outside in. With a sigh, I drift down the front steps and across the grass to my car. Inside, she’s still warm from the long day in the sun. I fish the keys from my bag and turn them over in the ignition.

The car croaks through a whine but doesn’t start.

Dammit!

I try her again.

Same thing. No start.

I slam a hand on the steering wheel. The last thing I want to do is go back inside and ask for Harry’s help. I groan, letting my forehead slump against the wheel.

“Screw you, Betsy. Of all the times to give out.”

I pluck up my bag and shove through the door. I slam it and march back inside. Harry and Rosie are cleaning the kitchen when I burst through the front door. They snap their heads up to me in sync. Harry tosses a tea towel over his shoulder and takes a bite of chicken, leaning on the counter as if waiting for an explanation.

“My car won’t start,” I say.

Harry raises an eyebrow, turning to Rosie.

She holds her palms up over her shoulders. “Hey, wasn’t me this time.”

He studies her face before turning back to me. “Need a lift, then?”

“Please.”

I swallow. The last thing I wanted was to be in close quarters with Harry Rawlins. My heart—no, my soul—can’t take that. It has absolutely no self-control around this man. It’s taken a literal Brad barrier to keep me from being sucked into his orbit. He’s like a stinkin’ magnet. And I’m the woman who is programmed to be pulled into him. I’m positive he and I together can only be negative.

The tea towel hits the counter as he swipes up his truck keys and pulls on his boots.

“Thank you again, Louisa.” Rosie’s smile is so wide, happiness radiating from her in spades. Maybe this is all worth it. Maybe.

We slide into the pickup, and Harry fires it up. He reverses away from the house and shifts it into drive without a word.

“Rosie looks happier,” I say, breaking the thick silence.

He nods. The cab is flooded with his scent. I tilt my head and close my eyes. It’s too much. Too many memories flooding in, just being in this seat. The vehicle bumps along the road. I force air in and out of my lungs. Close proximity with him has always messed with my head.

“She is,” he finally says.

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