Page 4 of The Pretenders of Copper County
The poor guy didn’t seem any better at making sense when he was nervous than I was, but I nodded encouragingly.
He pushed an impatient hand through his hair, managing to look far sexier than I did with that move. “Let’s start over. I’mSunday.” He gave me a meaningful look.
“I figured.” I gestured from my own dull, brown eyes to his gorgeous ones. “Dead giveaway.”
“Right. Okay. So?” He nodded toward the car.
I still wasn’t sure what he wanted, and I hated to presume. “So…?”
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “This isn’t my usual MO, okay? When I’m picking someone up, I like to arrange things in advance. But the Powers that Be threw you into my path with zero warning?—”
My jaw dropped. Had he… had he really saidwhen I’m picking someone up?
Did that mean…?
Was I thesomeone?
I’d never been picked up before. I didn’t go to bars and clubs much—or, okay,ever—since they weren’t my scene, and when I’d tried Grindr just to see how it worked, I hadn’t even uploaded a profile picture before five messages popped up, four demanding dick pics and one inviting me to a nearby stranger’s home to “rail his horny ass through the mattress.” I’d panic-deleted the app instantly.
But now, unless I was very much mistaken—always a possibility—this bristly-jawed man with forearms of pure muscle was standing in front of me and honest to gosh talking about picking me up because the Powers that Be had thrown me into his path.
My lungs worked, but I wasn’t sure they were actually sucking in air. Could a person drown on their own lust?
“Yup. I didn’t even know what you looked like until this time yesterday—” His wry grin obliterated my past, present, and future composure.
Yesterday?Where had I been this time yesterday? How had I not noticed him noticing me? Oh, man, what had I been wearing? Because that was now going to be my forever-and-ever favorite outfit?—
“—and, in fact, it’s only thanks to Ernie York that I even knew where to find you?—”
“Ernie,” I breathed, the factsslotting together in my mind.
Oh my gosh. Oh my flipping gosh.
This hottest of all the incredibly hot Sundays had been the person asking Ernie about me? I was suddenly, wildly glad Van hadn’t divulged this information, or I might have melted into a pile of incredulous goo back in his office and missed this whole interaction.
“Yeah. Ernie mentioned you’d be working tonight.” He rolled his eyes. “Small towns, man. Everybody knows everything. On the one hand, useful for finding the guy you’re looking for. On the other…” He darted another glance up and down the street, then shrugged. “Anyway. I usually prefer things done in a more controlled and orderly fashion?—”
I nodded like a bobblehead. I loved things to be neat and orderly, too! Gosh, we had so much in common already.
“—but that doesn’t mean I’m not a hundred percent committed here.” He pressed one large hand to his dazzlingly thick pectoral and said earnestly, “I am.”
“Oh. Well. Th-thank you?” I bit my lip.
Was I hallucinating? Was I misinterpreting what he was saying? There was nothing worse than thinking someone liked you and wanted to get to know you, only to realize, when they stopped talking to you at school or stopped coming in to the Cellar during your shift, that you must have been wrong about them. I’d been wrong like that both as a kidandas an adult, and I really, desperately didn’t want to be wrong now.
But… what elsecouldhe mean? He’d said he was trying to pick me up. And he was a Sunday—a member of the kindest, friendliest, most upstanding family in all of Little Pippin Hollow—which meant he had to be sincere… didn’t he?
“Now that all that’s out of the way.” He leaned over thepassenger’s seat and popped the door open. “You ready to go?”
My heart rate kicked up, and then up again. I could hear Van’s voice in my head telling me not to overthink, to sow my oats or whatever, but there was going wild and there was goingwild. I was barely ready for the adventure bunny slope, still reciting, “French fry, pizza slice,” to remember how to navigate on my adventure skis. Meanwhile, this man—this sexy, sexy man with his intense eyes and his serious expression and his shirt rolled up to his elbows—had triple black-diamond-level adventure written all over him.
“Just so I’m clear, exactly what’s going to happen after I get in the car?” I asked because I needed to be sure.
He sighed impatiently, and I cursed myself for asking.
What if he thought I was being too difficult? What if I was too much trouble? What if he had the same philosophy as Uncle Danny?You ask too many questions, Christoforo, and you ruin life’s surprises. Don’t argue. Be calm.
“I’ve got a place—a house—that’s private and secure. Once we get there…” He shrugged. “What happens then is really up to you. But you’ll be safe, that much I can promise.” He dropped his voice so it was warm and liquid, like sliding into a bubble bath. “I don’t blame you for being nervous, but you can trust me to take care of you, Chris. I swear it.”
