Page 21 of Renard's Deliverance

“Just a small one. I really think the question should be why wouldn’t you carry around a wooden bat?”

She’d tried to convince Lilac and Ryleigh of that, but for all of the bad things they’d experienced, they were still looking at the world with rose-colored glasses.

Well, Ryleigh in particular.

But not Opal.

Renard stared at her again before turning to start up his truck. She waited for the ridicule. For him to convince her that she didn’t need that stuff now that she lived here.

Which was bullshit.

“Fair call,” he said.

“I have the right to . . . what?”

“I said that’s a fair call. The Taser, the pepper spray and the bat. You ever thought about brass knuckles?”

“Often,” she replied. “But I’m not that great at physical self-defense. I’d just rather they didn’t get that close.”

“I get that. But still, it’s good to have a back-up in case they do get close, and you haven’t got your bat handy. You could carry brass knuckles in your pockets.”

“Not in these jeans, honey,” she told him. “I pour myself into these. They’re like paint on my skin.”

And that was the way she liked her clothes. Tight or short, sometimes both.

“Right,” Renard said awkwardly.

Hmm. She didn’t think that would make him uncomfortable. Was it that he didn’t like her clothes?

Not that she gave a shit what anyone thought.

She dressed for herself not for anyone else. People had often tried to change her or make her feel bad for her preferences.

Fuck them.

She stared out the side window. For some reason, she hadn’t expected him to react like that to her clothing.

And it kind of stung.

“You live in Mrs. Easton’s old house, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she said warily.

He knew where she lived?

“Small town,” he told her. “No need to stiffen up like I’m your stalker or something. Everyone knows everyone else’s business in this town. Worst thing about living here. Bunch of busybodies.”

“Tell me about it,” she said. “Especially those Malones.”

He pulled up into the small drive of Mrs. Easton’s house. “Where’s your security light?”

Opal frowned.

“Alec better have installed a security light,” he grumbled.

“He did. I don’t know why it’s not coming on.” A strange feeling came over her.

Get a grip, Opal.

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