Page 11 of Almost Perfect
Horrified, I reared back. “I do not. That woman isnotmy type.”
“Riiiiight. Yeah. Gorgeous, talented, passionate, loaded.” He made a face. “Disgusting.”
I handed him my plate and fork.
“That’s all well and good, but like you said, man-eater. Exhibitionist.” And then it hit me. All the recent headlines. “Drug addict? Did we just rent that house to a millionaire addict? What if she overdoses over there? What if—”
His giant hand shot up. “Pump the brakes there, killer. She’s not an addict. You know as well as I do you can’t believe everything you read. As far as we care, she’s a tenant and we’ll help her when she asks. Otherwise, we’ll stay out of her way, and I bet you she stays out of ours. After all the crap in the news, I bet you she’s up here in Nowhere, Utah to hide out.”
All the crap in the newswas story after story about her the last few months, culminating in a supposed insider’s claim that she’d supplied the drugs to her addict mother who’d overdosed sometime in the last few years. I didn’t tune in to pop culture all that much, but I would’ve had to be living in a cave to miss the news about Miss Mayhem.
Her name said it all. Over the years, she’d pushed the envelope. She was a pop culture icon by now, and a sex symbol the world over. I didn’t know all that much about her, nor could I name more than a handful of her songs from the last decade, but I knew one thing. A woman like that?
Absolutely not my type.
I wanted someone steady. Predictable. Someone I could build a life with and be happy with. Nothing earth-shaking, but clearly not that woman. She was gorgeous, and I hadn’t even seen her up close where I could get a good look at her, but I didn’t need to now. She was off the list, and my date with Sarah this weekend was even more important.
“Well, no problem there. I will definitely be leaving her alone.”
FIVE
Calla
The truck rumbled to a stop next to where I stood by the entrance to the farm.
“You need something?” Wyatt Saint asked from a rolled down window, an unmistakable edge to his voice.
Maybe I was being sensitive, but I could tell it wasn’t a good edge. Not something flirty or curious, but something agitated or suspicious. The firm set of his jaw, like he was clenching his teeth, and that pouty mouth pulling down on both sides… wow.
Okay, then. I hadn’t spoken to this man since the first night here, and he greeted me like that?
“Just waiting for my ride. Thanks.”
I’d booked with a local driver but felt bad having them come up to the door, so I’d pinned the pickup location here at the big All Saints Ranch sign. Little did I realize, the five-minute walk here would wind me like I’d tried to sprint a mile, but I supposed I had to get used to the altitude at some point. Maybe it’d even double as effective cardio or something.
“How long until it comes?” he asked, eyes narrowing like my standing here was some kind of nefarious plot.
“Uh… looks like five more minutes? I didn’t want them to have to wait.”
He blinked, gaze stilloffsomehow. Especially compared to our last meeting the day I arrived. He hadn’t been fawning over me or anything, but he’d been nice enough. Then the next day, he’d been out on his porch while I was on mine, and we’d had a nice moment of acknowledgement.
I’d learned a few things about Wyatt Saint. First, he was a creature of habit. In the four days since arriving, he had come and gone at the exact same time. He stood on the porch every morning at seven thirty after getting home from doing whatever he did a lot earlier than that. He left every afternoon for about three hours and came back early evening, then didn’t leave again. And granted, these weren’t exactly earth-shattering revelations, but compared to Warrick, who seemed to come and go ten times a day or not at all, it was notable.
And all that easily revealed how bored out of my mind I’d been. I’d been stalking the neighbors from my little barny cottage, and by this afternoon, I’d had to get out. No amount of yoga, meditation, or vocal exercises could help the time pass—but at least there was decent distance between me and the big house so my new neighbors couldn’t hear me singing scales and doing the other nonsense I did to keep my voice in shape.
I’d briefly considered asking Wyatt if I could pay him to take me to town since I’d bet that was where he went every afternoon, but I’d decided against it. I didn’t want to impose, and now, I was even happier I hadn’t asked.
Whatever problem this Saint brother had with me today had come out of nowhere. I’d done nothing… actual nothing. I hadn’t even stepped out on my porch to greet the day again, just in case my standing a few hundred yards away at the same time would steal this peaceful moment from him. I was only temporary, after all.
So that suspicion and attitude? Rude.
“You’ll freeze out here. You should get in.” He jerked his head to the side in a signal that must’ve meant I should get in his truck.
Yeah, right.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” I tucked my arms more closely around me because it was only about twenty degrees this afternoon. There’d been a brutal cold snap starting the day after I arrived. But I’d bundled up, and I’d only been out here five minutes before he showed up.
“Seriously, you could get frostbite just standing here. Get in and wait.”
