Page 8 of Sweet Surrender
I still couldn’t believe Nash hadn’t reported me there and then, butsurely it was only going to be a matter of time before he did. My luck wasn’t that good.
When I wasn’t fretting about the police or my lack of funds to replacethe car, my mind wandered to Nash and his stunning silvery-gray eyes. The more I thought of them, the more certain I was that I had seen him before, I just couldn’t remember where. It wasn’t like I went toplaces where he hung out, you know, expensive wine bars or Michelin-star restaurants.
After Brian dropped me home following the accident, I instantly regrettedmy decision to decline his invitation to dinner. For the rest of the evening, I tried to convince myself that I did the right thing by not going, and no matter how hot Nash was, men were the root of all evil.
Still, I couldn’t remove the memory of him from my brain.
It was pointless regretting it though; I was never going to see Nashagain. Brian had made it clear when he dropped me off that he would be the one to call me once he had news on my car, and even though I’d given him my number, I wasn’t expecting him to pass it on to Nash.
I mean, why would he?
I turned the man down, something he probably wasn’t used to.
When my alarm went off at the ass crack of dawn, I skipped theshower, considering it was still broken. Instead, I washed with baby wipes, before dressing in my work uniform
I ended up wasting a few minutes trying to find some cleanunderwear, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find any. I’d done my washing at the weekend like I always did, but when I thought about it, I didn’t remember there being any panties. Yet when I checked the laundry basket, there were none in there either.
Not having time to investigate the case of the mystery missingunderwear, I had no choice but to go commando and hope like fuck no one would notice.
Heading out the door a whole hour and a half earlier than I was usedto, I braced myself for the freezing cold, wincing when a gust of icy wind blew up my pinafore and hit my bare pussy. But my feet came to an abrupt stop upon seeing a familiar car waiting in the parking lot.
Brian stood by the passenger door, dressed exactly how he’d beenyesterday; in his smart suit, and despite the ridiculously early time, he looked fresh as a daisy.
“Good morning, Miss Miller,” Brian said with a warm smile on hisface. As he spoke, his breath cast a puff of fog into the cold air.
“Hi. What are you doing here?” I replied, unable to stop the curiosity fromgetting the better of me.
Dread pooled in my tummy with the sudden worry that Nash hadchanged his mind and was going to report me to the police, and had sent Brian to give me fair warning so I had time to run.
“Mr. Carson thought you’d be without a car while yours is at thegarage. He wanted to make sure you got to work okay, especially in this cold.”
I think my brows disappeared into my hairline with how surprised Iwas.
“Shall we?” Brian prompted when I stood there dumbly staring at him.He waved a hand as he opened the rear door to the black Bentley he’d driven me home in yesterday.
I hesitated, not knowing whether to accept the lift or not. I mean, hewasn’t a stranger, but why did this feel weird? And why would Nash, someone I’d not only just met in rather unfortunate circumstances, but also turned down for a date, want to do something as nice as making sure I got to work okay?
Maybe it was because I was so used to being played for a chump thatI couldn’t recognize a kind act when it was staring me in the face.
I rubbed my hands together to try and get some warmth in them as Istared at Brian and the car, indecision weighing heavily on me.
“The heater’s on, Miss Miller. And I promise, I don’t bite,” Brian saidwith a mischievous grin. I couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about Brian that put me at ease and made me want to trust him.
“That’s very kind of you and Mr. Carson,” I said, decision made toaccept the lift. I slid into the back of the seat, the warm interior immediately engulfing me and warming up my freezing cheeks and hands.
And other certain areas I hoped Brian wouldn’t know about.
“Would you like to stop for coffee, Miss Miller?” Brian asked as heclambered into the driver’s seat. “We have plenty of time before your shift starts.”
He’d asked me yesterday all about my work, and if I had a shift today.I thought he was making polite conversation as he drove me home, and I’d grumbled about how I had a double shift, and would have to leave home at stupid o’clock to make sure I got to the diner before it opened at 6.30 am.
“Coffee sounds great.”
He nodded his head before putting the car in drive and pulling out ofmy apartment complex. As he did, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the headrest, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather seat I was sitting on, and the beautiful, sleek interior of the car.
This sure as hell beat taking the bus.
The morning rush came and went in a flash. Despite starting themorning wanting nothing more than to go back to bed for a few more hours of sleep, I found my second wind.
