Page 51 of Cross Check Christmas
"Khan?" His lips twitch.
“Genghis Khan. Don't start." I pull out my phone, scrolling through contacts. Maybe Daisy could... no, she's doing deliveries today. "I just need to get there, feed him, and bring him back. Simple."
"Your cousin named their cat Genghis Khan?"
"Is that all you took from that?” I sigh with exasperation. “He's a very intimidating Maine Coon."
"And the cat's just... sitting in an empty house?"
“The neighbor put the cat back at Michelle’s house with extra food, thinking she would be home in a few hours."
I bite my lip, weighing my options. Jessica from two doors down has a newborn, so she’s out. And now I'm actually considering asking the guy I stranded in Toronto yesterday to borrow one of his vehicles.
His Mercedes gleams in Grannie's driveway next to his pickup truck, both taunting me with their working engines.
"So..." I clear my throat.
Hendrix get this gleam in his eye, like he already knows what I’m about to ask him. “Yes?”
I catch myself. "Never mind. I'll figure something out."
His gaze bounces to Grannie’s driveway where I know he caught me looking. “Mmmhhmmm. I'm guessing you need a favor?"
I wince. "I was going to call Daisy..."
"Buuut you want to borrow my car." His eyes dance with amusement.
“Well, if you’re offering…”
"Let me get this straight." He crosses his arms, looking far too amused. "You want to borrow my car after leaving me stranded?"
"I was upset! You tricked me into thinking Liam wanted to see me."
"I didn't trick you into anything." He holds up his hands.
“I promise I'll be careful with your precious Mercedes. I'll have it back in two hours tops."
“My Mercedes! No way.”
“I’m a very safe driver.”
“I know you are. You were going fifteen kilometers under the speed limit the whole way to Toronto.”
“See? You can totally trust me. I’ll bring her back without a scratch.”
“I don’t care about the car, Colette. I care about you.”
I blink, not quite sure I heard him correctly. “Me?”
My heart skips at his words, but I quickly push that feeling aside. "What do you mean?"
"The Mercedes isn't built for country roads, especially not in winter," he continues, like he hasn't just dropped an emotional bomb. “Whitestone's pretty remote, and those back roads get icy."
He jingles his keys. "If you really need to borrow one of my vehicles, it'll have to be the truck."
I eye the massive pickup sitting in Grannie's driveway. It's practically monster-truck sized compared to my sensible Civic.
"Oh. Um."
