Accidentally in Love by Laura Drewry Read Free Book Online

word out. “Then I don’t understand your question. How else do you plan on getting it home?”
    “I’ll walk it.” When she tried to tug it again, Brett held tight.
    Rain trickled down the back of his neck and under the collar of his jacket, sliding slowly between his shoulder blades until he shuddered. Why the hell was he standing here arguing with her? If she wanted to be that stubborn, she deserved to walk the damn bike home in the rain. He almost said as much, too, but of course he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was a safety issue.
    Yeah. That was it. Safety first.
    “Come on, Ellie, it’s getting dark and you don’t have a single reflective strip on this bike.” With a final jerking tug, he pulled the bike out of her grasp, lifted it into the bed of his truck, then reached around her to open the passenger door. “Just get in.”
    He was already behind the wheel with his buckle latched before she finally huffed out a defeated breath.
    “Do you have a towel or something I can sit on?” She waved her hands down the length of herself, as though he hadn’t already noticed the mud splatters or how her soaked T-shirt clung to her. Judging by the way she was suddenly trying to pull it away from her skin, she knew he noticed, too.
    “Don’t worry about it,” he finally managed, shifting Jayne’s container of leftovers closer to him. “Seats are leather—they’ll wipe right up.”
    It took her a while to get in and close the door because she was trying so hard not to touch anything with her greasy hands, and after watching her fight to grip the seat belt with her pinkie finger, he finally reached over, pulled it across her body, and snapped it into place himself. Goose bumps riddled both her bare forearms, so before putting the truck in gear, he turned the heat up a little and flipped on her seat warmer.
    “Not exactly the best time of year to be without a jacket,” he said.
    “Yeah, well, things went a little sideways before I left, and I forgot it.” Not a breath of malice, just low and even, with maybe a hint of laughter when she added, “Too bad, though, ’cause it had reflective strips all over it.”
    For the first half kilometer or so, he waited for her to light into him about how, if it hadn’t been for him, she would have been home right this second, warm and dry and clean, but seconds ticked by without so much as a whisper. It wasn’t that he wanted her to rip into him, it was just—
    “I hope you don’t feel guilty about making me ride my bike in the rain,” she said, snapping her helmet through the strap of her backpack. “I always ride to practices and games—it’s part of my warm-up.”
    “That’s, uh, good to know, but I didn’t make you ride your bike, and I don’t feel guilty. You’re the one who drives like a lunatic.”
    “I don’t—” She stopped, rubbed the heel of her hand under her nose, and sat back with a resigned sigh. “If it’s not guilt, then why did you stop to help me?”
    “Why did I…?” He cast a glance her way, but she’d turned to look out the side window. “Are you serious?”
    “You must have had a reason.”
    Brett resisted the urge to snort. “You really want to know?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Okay, but it might surprise you.”
    “Ha. There’s not many things you could say that’ll surprise me.”
    “I did it because…” He paused, inhaled slowly, then huffed it out in a whoosh for added effect. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this out loud….Okay, here goes. I did it because, despite what you think, I’m not a complete asshole. Shocking, I know.”
    He caught a glimpse of her smile through the reflection in the glass, but by the time she turned to face him again, all that was left was a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth.
    “Touché, Poncherello.”
    Was that it? No return jab? He wasn’t complaining, he just wasn’t sure where to go from here, and apparently neither did she. Still, it felt stupid not saying anything,