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“That’s my car.”
“It is.”
“And it’s running.”
“It sure is, love.”
“How did you … Where did you … Huh?”
I chuckle and hold a hand out to her. She lets me pull her in close to me, lets me wrap my arms around her and breathe her in. She smells like coffee and pie crust, and if we weren’t standing in front of the diner, if I couldn’t see Cassandra watching us over her shoulder, I’d duck my head and—
Scarlett kisses me anyway, and everything goes beautifully quiet. It’s a chaste kiss, a “hello”, like kissing each other is just something we do now. And I fucking love that.
“Hi,” she murmurs against my lips.
I give her one last kiss before echoing her.
“Talk to me about the car.”
“Right. That. I fixed it.”
Scarlett draws her brows together, a confused crinkle between them. “You personally fixed it?”
“Aye. You were right about the battery, but there were a few other things that needed tuning up. She’s good as new.” Good as new for a car that was made the year she started high school, anyway.
“You fixed my car.” It’s not a question, and she still sounds like the idea just doesn’t compute.
“I did. And I know you don’t like accepting help, which is why I did it without asking. Please don’t be mad at me.” I still have my arms around her, so, if she is, I could just cuddle her until she forgives me, I suppose.
But Scarlett’s expression softens. “I’m not mad. I’m … Wow. I’m impressed. Thank you, Kill. Dancing, cooking, third-grade-level math skills, car repairs … Is there anything you can’t do?”
I snort. “First, I reckon I could manage up to fifth grade, but, after that, Ronan’s going to have to step in. I can’t speak French,” I add with a shrug. Caitlin is learning at school, and James at pre-school. Though he only does basic words and phrases, Caitlin has to help him with the worksheets they send home, when Scarlett’s not around, because I have no idea what I’m looking at. I suppose I should probably start learning the basics if I’m thinking about staying in Canada.
“So, one thing, then. Still too good to be true,” Scarlett says, smiling. The wind catches her ponytail, sending it fluttering. I reach up and gently pull her hair tie out, and she groans as her hair tumbles around her shoulders. It can’t be comfortable to keep it up for hours. I massage my fingertips against her scalp, and she closes her eyes and sighs. “God, that feels good.”
“Scar?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I take you out for dinner?”
She opens one eye and peers up at me. “Like a date?”
“Hey, you said the D word. Not me. But yes.”
Scarlett pulls her lip between her teeth, but nods. “That sounds nice. But I’d like to take you somewhere first. I promise you’ll like it.”
The problem with fixing Scarlett’s car is that, now, if we’re going somewhere I’m not familiar with, it makes sense for her to drive. And fuck, she looks good driving. I’m getting used to driving in the snow, but I’m nowhere near as confident—especially when I have her or the kids in the car. Scarlett coasts over the icy ground like she’s been doing it forever: one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, her sunglasses on and her hair blowing in the hot air coming from the vents. The tip of her nose is rosy pink, matching her lips, and her jaw is … a little scratched up. Shit. I really should shave.
The road she takes is gorgeous, lined with evergreens and snowcapped mountains. This is the first chance I’ve really had to see anything outside of town from a passenger’s perspective. Yet, I spend the whole drive looking at her. Some people might call that a waste, but I can’t think of anything I’d rather look at.
Scarlett pulls off the main road, and we drive down a road wide enough only for one car, thanks to the forest lining each side. Branches brush against the car, but Scarlett drives like she knows the road like the back of her hand.
“Do you come here a lot?”
She shakes her head, turning on the wipers to brush off the snow that the trees are dropping on the windshield. “Not much anymore. But I did when I was in high school. This is where all the cool kids hang out.”
“Are you taking me to the Clover Pines hook-up spot?” I joke, but she gives me a mischievous smile.