Page 12 of Capturing You

“Tell me you drive a nice, nondescript Honda, preferably with dirt-covered plates.”

“Not…exactly.”

His brows lowered over angry eyes.

She might as well fess up—as if she’d done something wrong. Which she hadn’t, even if the truth was inconvenient.

“I drive a Bronco.”

“Of course you do. Any chance it’s black?” Before she could answer, he straightened and glared at her. “It’s orange, isn’t it? That bright orange?—”

“What’s wrong with orange?”

“Aside from it being the most obvious vehicle in Shadow Cove? I mean, evenI’venoticed it.”

“It’s not like I’ve been trying to hide.”

“The point is, you’re not safe. If those guys were locals?—”

“They aren’t locals.”

That smirk—Ford’s resting-irritated-face—showed displeasure with a hint of condescension. It broadcast the question he didn’t bother to ask.

“None of the men chasing me this morning were locals.”

“You saw their faces?”

“Well, no. But the people of Shadow Cove are good, law-abiding citizens. They’re not smugglers.”

“You don’t think bad guys can live in nice towns?”

“I’m not saying?—”

“Right. Bad guys all live in bad-guy towns with names like Tombstone, or, I know. Gunpoint. Gunpoint, Wyoming. They scheme their evil schemes and then invade the sweet little Shadow Coves of the world to wreak havoc.”

Those were the most words Ford had put together at one time since she’d met him. Funny that he’d managed a whole paragraph in order to make her look and feel stupid.

“Okay, then.” She pushed back from the table. “That’s my cue.”

“Wait.” He stood as well. “Sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

“Yes, you did.” She snatched her backpack and moved toward the opening on the far side of the kitchen, which she hoped led to the front door.

“You can’t just leave.” Ford followed. “Where are you going?”

“To my bright orange SUV.”

“They could be watching it. They probably are.”

She didn’t slow, not wanting his words to register. Or to be true.

“Please, stop.”

She was halfway through a formal dining room—long French provincial table surrounded by ten matching chairs. The heavy drapes were pulled closed, blocking the natural light.

She turned to face him. “What?”

“You need to think this through.”