Page 72 of Mother Clucker

“Yes.”

I finally let myself breathe again at the woman’s answer.

He turned back to me. “Yeah, sorry, she’s gone. We came back from vacation early.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh, thanks.” I turned before I had to admit to this stranger that not only had I not remembered Heather was just housesitting, but that I didn’t know where the fuck she did live if it wasn’t here. Or that she wouldn’t answer my calls so I couldn’t even ask her.

But I did know one thing. I knew where she worked. And tomorrow—shit, today was Saturday. The office wouldn’t be open tomorrow. Okay, Monday I was going to her office and I would make her listen to me.

And if she refused I wasn’t above holding her rooster hostage. I could make the ransom be her having to meet me in person and hear me out.

Until then, Drew was going to have to put up with my sorry ass living in his guest room again. I’d pick up a case of beer at the gas station on my way over. That would help soften my unannounced arrival and warm up my welcome, I was sure.

Besides, I needed to fuel up.

Maybe Heather had been right about my gas-guzzler. If I was going to keep driving from Texas to California, I should probably look into getting a vehicle that was better on gas.

Of course, if I continued to make this drive was completely up to Heather.

Christ, I hated not being in control. But I had a feeling if I was going to be with Heather, I’d better get used to it.

For her, I would. Hell, I’d do anything to be with her. I supposed I should have realized that sooner. Probably should have told her that too.

Lesson learned. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I turned into the gas station’s entrance and hit the curb when the sight of the tiny white car at the pump commanded every ounce of my attention.

My heart was pounding by the time I pulled the truck into a parking spot, abandoning my task of fueling up for one that was much more important—getting to Heather.

The car was empty. She’d be inside paying, like she had been the first time I laid eyes on her.

I leaned against the hood, arms folded, heart thundering, and waited.

She came out of the building so busy fussing with her purse that she didn’t look up until she’d almost tripped over the island with the pumps.

When she finally did look up, I knew the moment she saw me. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open.

“Need gas again already? I thought these little wind-up cars went forever on a single tank.” I was acting cocky, like I owned the world, but inside I was a mess.

“David.” She breathed out my name. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.

“Heather, I have to explain?—”

She rushed forward, grabbing my hands. “No. I have to explain. I’m so sorry. I thought?—”

“That my sister was a woman I was with when she answered my phone?” I suggested.

“Yes. And I’m so sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have called. Or texted. The minute I was able I should have.”

“You had other things on your mind.” She shook her head. “I jumped to conclusions.”

As we spoke, every sentence brought us closer together until she was standing between my feet, her body pressed to mine.

It was too close to resist. I gave in to the urge. I palmed the back of her head and brought her mouth to mine.

No kiss had ever felt as good or tasted so sweet. I wanted to keep kissing this woman for oh, say, the next hour or so, and then for the next fifty years.

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