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I allow myself to look up, aiming a hard stare at the person watching me from above. I can’t see who it is, but I know. The moment our eyes connect through the glass, I feel like someone’s hooked jumper cables to my earlobes. It’s her.
Claire.
As soon as I feel her, she’s gone, the connection broken as instantly as it’d taken root, leaving me with a feeling of a momentary free fall before I slam back into my body.
That can only mean one thing.
She recognized me and wasn’t happy to see me. Probably ran off to tell her dad or fiancé or whoever, that she doesn’t want me as a driver. Maybe even why.
Can you say clusterfuck?
Resuming my posture, I wait for someone to come out of the house and tell me there’s been a mistake. That my services won’t be needed after all. Possibly run me off his property for fucking his daughter and then disappearing into thin air.
That’s fine.
Clusterfuck or not, my mind is made up.
Five years ago, I started something with Claire St. James, and it’s high fucking time I finish it. She can have her daddy send me away. Hell, she can get married if that’s what she wants to do, but I’m not going anywhere.
No matter what or who comes out that door, I’m here.
And this time, I’m not leaving.