Page 12 of Big Rucking Disaster

“Too long.” He let out a sigh.

I pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “Okay, you want to come in?”

“Nope.”

“I’m taking the keys so you won’t drive away.”

“Yep. Wasn’t planning on it.”

“What do you want?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I’m nauseous.”

“All the more reason to get something in your stomach.” I wracked my brain. “Meatball? Cold cut?”

“BLT. Extra tomatoes. Oh, with onions and black olives.”

“Uh, can you repeat that?”

“Bacon, lettuce, extra tomatoes, onions, black olives, Italian dressing.” He sighed. “I might be able to eat that.”

Personally, I thought bacon might be a little harsh, and black olives? Blech. “Sure. Back in a few.”

That turned out to be overly optimistic as the line was long. I yanked out my phone, pulled up IG, selected my profile, and started scrolling. Me with Carly. Me with my team. Me with Carly. Carly in my place. Me and the guys. Carly and… On it went. Yeah, if Yardley had checked this out, I could see how he assumed Carly and I were…tight.

Even as I was about to put the phone away, she texted asking me where I was.

I responded,with a friend, and put the phone in my back pocket.

And ignored the next five texts.

She wasn’t great at taking a hint. She was…possessive.

I was…not willing to rock the boat.

After I secured our subs, a couple of cookies, and bottled drinks, I headed back to the SUV.

Yardley barely stirred, so I tossed the food onto the back seat. Within a moment, I was back on the road.

Dodging rush-hour traffic down Fraser Street was a pain, but eventually I found myself before a cute house on Somerville Street. An elevated bungalow painted a bright blue, it fit in with most of the other houses on the street—except a couple where obviously the previous home had been torn down and a much bigger one had replaced it. That happened a lot everywhere in Vancouver. “Do I park out front of—”

“There’s a driveway off the back lane.” He muttered the words.

“Got it.” I figured out how to get there and was grateful he had the number posted on the chain-link fence. I pulled into the driveway and put the SUV into park. After a moment, I turned the vehicle off. “This is a sweet ride.”

“You mean aside from the fact the thing was a bribe?” Yardley opened his eyes.

“You’re better off without him.” I didn’t know Dr. What’s His Face Podiatrist, MD, but nothing was as bad as being with someone who didn’t want you.

“Sure. Maybe.” He rubbed his forehead. “Only I was with him for most of my adult life. I didn’t know how to live alone. Don’t.” He corrected himself. “Might as well come in.”

“Okay.” I grinned. Truthfully, I couldn’t figure out if he was perpetually grumpy or if the circumstances were dictating his annoyance. Me? The knock to the head? Discussions about his ex? All? None? Some combination? I had no idea.

I snagged the food as well as my bag. While my attention was focused on that, Yardley snagged his messenger bag with that heavy laptop. “Hey.”

“You snooze, you lose.” He deadpanned that. Then held out his hand.

I dropped the keys into them as I filled my arms with stuff. By the time I made my way up to his deck, he had the front door unlocked.

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