Page 29
Story: Daring the Defender
“Just helping out.”
“We’re in a coffee shop.” I pull my leg back, but he holds tight. “People can see.”
His eyebrow cocks. “You don’t know a single person in here but me. Why do you care?”
“Because it’s not appropriate.” I wiggle my foot away, and this time he releases me. My foot feels like it’s on fire. “And I may not know anyone in here, but I get the feeling everyone else knows exactly who you are.”
I noticed it the second he sat down. Every eye in the room followed his movements. Especially the table of girls, talking quietly in the corner.
“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” he asks.
“What if I am?”
He leans back in his chair and assesses me. “You know, if I were your brother you’d have a nickname by now.”
Axel is notorious for shortening everyone’s names, including my own. In a low voice I beg, “Please don’t start calling me Shellybean.”
Reid laughs. “Noted.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s a shop a few miles off campus that should work.” His eyebrow lifts. “You want a ride? I’ve got time before my next class.”
“In your car?”
“Yes, in my car. Well, truck.” He frowns. “Were you expecting a bicycle or something?”
“No.” What I wasn’t expecting was to be so flustered. “But yes, that would be really helpful.”
While I put on my coat, he grabs my trash and tosses it in the bin. “I’m in the lot,” he says, turning down a pathway that leads away from the campus. “I had to run an errand between classes anyway.”
His truck is older and a little beat up, with small patches of rust along the tailgate. He opens the door for me. “I’m from Texas and know my way around a truck, but you need some running boards.”
“Sorry about that,” he says, offering me his hand. My skirt goes to my knees and I have to hike it up to take the step in. I’m halfway up when I feel his hand on my hip and a crackle of heat zaps up my spine. I’m leveraged onto the bench seat and I quickly shift over. “You good?”
“Great.” I say, flashing a quick grin.
He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side of the truck, while I buckle up. The cab is cold, but has a warm spicy scent that reminds me of Reid. I shove my hands into my pockets as the engine rumbles to life. He fusses with the knobs, and a blast of heat spills into the small space.
“So how’d you end up with a truck like this?” I ask.
“I bought her.” he says, placing his hands on the big steering wheel. “It was all I could afford with my part time job.”
“Her?”
“Lurlene.” At my raised eyebrow he adds, “My grandmother’s name.”
“That’s sweet.” And a little adorable, I think as he eases the truck out of the lot. “What kind of job?”
“Coaching hockey at the local rink.”
“Ah, of course. Hockey.” I rub my hands over my knees. “Well, I’m impressed. I can’t imagine earning enough money to buy something like a car.”
“No?”
“I’ve never even had a job,” I admit, feeling a little embarrassed by it. “At least not a paid one. My father always wanted me available to volunteer at Kingdom.”
He nods, and I stare at the hard line of his profile, the sharpness of his jaw. “Axel’s mentioned how he wanted you both to follow in his footsteps.”
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