Page 28 of My Hotshot

“Highway Through Hell.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Is that a tow truck?”

“Yup. It’s about tow truck drivers up in Canada.”

She gave me a look like I’d lost my mind. “This is what you thought we should watch? I thought you said we were going to watch a movie.”

I shrugged. “This looked entertaining.”

Truth was, I’d seen it a handful of times when the guys had the remote at the clubhouse. Usually, we ended up yelling at the screen and making bets on whether or not the trucks would tip.

We watched in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward, though. Just quiet. She sipped her wine. I sipped my beer.

“I mean, it’s not what I would have picked,” she finally said, her voice softer now. She shifted slightly and leaned back into the cushions. “But it’s interesting.”

The longer the show played, the more she eased into the couch. We didn’t touch—not even close—but somehow, it still felt like we were wrapped in something warm.

The episode ended, and I looked over at her. “Want to watch the next one?”

She shrugged, lips curled slightly. “Sure, why not? Do you want anything to eat? I have some stuff left from the farmers market.”

“I could always eat, babe.”

She got up and disappeared into the kitchen again. I leaned back, finished off the beer, and listened to the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing. A few minutes passed, then she returned with a wooden tray piled high with more food than I expected.

I leaned forward and looked at the spread. “This is more than a snack, babe.”

There were cut-up cake donuts—chocolate, cinnamon, powdered. Cubes of sourdough bread with a big scoop of soft butter next to them. Carrots and sugar snap peas nestled next to a small bowl of what looked like ranch or something. Bright red strawberries, fat green grapes, and a pile of salty-looking mixed nuts rounded it all out.

“It’s just what I had,” she said, and set the tray between us.

I raised my eyebrows. “You keep your fridge stocked as well as Adalee does.” I grabbed a grape and popped it in my mouth.

“Who’s Adalee?” she asked, and curled back into her spot on the couch. She didn’t take anything off the tray, just pulled her glass of wine close and tucked her legs underneath her.

“Fade’s ol’ lady,” I said.

“You really call her ‘ol’ lady’?”

I nodded and snagged a chunk of a chocolate donut. “That’s what she is.”

“Pretty sure she’s more than just being Fade’s… ol’ lady.”

I chuckled and took another drink of my beer to wash down the sweet. “Yeah, she is, babe. She can bake and cook anything. She’s opening up a bakery with Fallon.”

“Fallon is?”

“Compass’ ol’ lady.”

She took another sip of wine and studied me over the rim of her glass. “Do you have an ol’ lady?”

I shook my head. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here, babe. I’ve never had an ol’ lady.”

She didn’t look like she bought it. “Bullshit. You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

I sat back and looked her straight in the eyes. “Had one girlfriend in my life, and I’m looking at her.”

“Again, bullshit. You’re telling me you haven’t dated since we broke up?”

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