Page 73 of Mother Clucker

But the car horn that rudely interrupted that fantasy brought me back to the present and to where we were standing blocking the pump as a line formed.

“Shit.” I wiped my mouth and let out a short laugh. “Let me pump for you. What kind of gas does this thing take anyway?”

“I like to put in premium.”

Of course she did. She probably believed the hype that it was better than the cheaper regular gas. I didn’t tell her differently.

“All righty. How much?”

“Twenty dollars, please.”

“You got it.” I drew in and blew out a breath, trying to settle into the mundane task of filling her tiny tank when all I wanted to do was hold her until I could believe again that she was mine.

I managed it, but all I could think about was how close I’d come to losing her. How lucky I was to get her back. And how I was never going to let anything—not a misunderstanding, or distance, or a dead cell phone—get between us again.

“Thank you,” she said, looking like I’d just given her the moon when all I’d done was pump some gas.

“No problem,” I said as I replaced the nozzle in the holder on the pump.

Meanwhile my pulse was still pounding.

I needed to get her in private. I didn’t care if it wasn’t to do anything more than hold her, I just needed to feel her there in my arms.

Of course, if she wanted to do more than cuddle, I could sure as hell get on board with that plan too.

“So, are you staying at Drew’s?” she asked.

“That was plan B. Plan A was to grovel at your door and then hopefully, if I was lucky, have you invite me to spend the night at your condo. That was before I found out you weren’t there.”

She cringed. “Sorry. The homeowners got back early.”

“So I found out.”

“So, you want to come back to my place?” she asked. “My real place where I actually live?”

And there it was. The whoosh of relief that told me everything was going to be okay. That made it feel as if I was finally able to take my first real breath in almost a week.

“Yeah. I have to fill up quick, but I definitely do.”

She let out a snort. “Nothing quick about filling up that monster you drive.”

I smiled, grateful all was forgiven. We were back to sparring. I was in my comfort zone.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” I began. “How about we put your toy car in the back of my truck? It’ll save gas and we can ride together.”

She planted a hand on one hip. “Ha, ha.”

I got a glimpse of the car waiting for our pump. The rest of our debate would have to be continued later.

Even if I was beginning to consider buying a different vehicle for what I had a feeling was going to be a regularly scheduled and often trip from Texas to California, I still enjoyed the battle. She was too fun to fight with. But not here.

Back at her place, our debates could continue to a natural conclusion. Bed.

“All right, missy. Move your toy car and let the other guy pull in. Then I’ll fill up. Wait for me to follow you to your place?” I asked.

“Of course.”

God, I loved that answer. It made me want to fist her hair and show her how much I loved it.

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