Page 6 of Denim & Diamonds

“That doesnothappen in Manhattan.”

“And that’s one of the many reasons I’ve never been there.”

“You’veneverbeen to the City? But you live in Maine, and it’s only a ten-hour drive or a two-hour flight.”

He shrugged. A few minutes later, we pulled up to the entrance of Sierra Wellness Center. There were some people milling around out front, so I ducked.

“Do you think you can drive around to the back of the building? That’s where my room is. Maybe people will see this truck and just assume you’re doing some work here.”

Brock waved as he drove up the long driveway.

“Who are you saying hello to?” I asked.

“Fuck if I know. Not even quite sure how the hell I got roped into keeping you at my apartment.”

“Roped in?” I felt offended. “I’m sorry if I was such a hassle.”

He looked over at me. “You were.”

“How was I a hassle?”

“You play shitty music, wouldn’t tell me where you lived to take you home, and I had to carry you up the stairs where you proceeded to snore the entire night.”

I did snore. “Oh.”

“Yeah.Oh.” The truck made a turn, and Brock slowed to a stop. “The coast is clear from the coppers. You can get up from down there now.”

“Thank you.”

Of course the ladder I’d used to climb out last night was no longer there. I looked around for something—anything—nearby to use to climb in. But it was just us and a shitload of trees fifty feet away. I nibbled on my fingernail. “Do you think you can pull up to that third window? Maybe I can reach it if I stand in the bed of the truck.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“Well, do you have abettersolution?”

He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but pulled the truck next to the third window. We both got out and looked up.

“Shoot,” I said. “It’s too high. This isn’t going to work.”

“I seem to have heard that somewhere before.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You don’t have to be so cocky about it.”

Brock shook his head and walked around to the back of his truck. He lowered the rear gate and climbed up, then extended one hand and pointed to the bumper with the other. “Put your foot on there, and I’ll pull you up.”

“But I’m still not going to be able to reach the window.”

“Just do it.”

My foot had barely touched the bumper when Brock hoisted me into the bed. He walked over near my window and kneeled down on one knee. “Get on my shoulders. I’ll lift you.”

“Are you sure? I’m not as light as I look.”

“I lift logs bigger than you all day long.”

“Okay…”

Brock held out a hand, and I climbed up to sit on his shoulders, trying to be as ladylike as I could while wearing a dress. But once I was on, he didn’t move. “Am I too heavy?”

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