I wanted to kill him. He excelled at bringing out the worst in me. Why did I find him the least bit attractive?
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Rory had coffee and breakfast made for me by the time I dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and brushed my teeth.
“You’re up early,” I said.
“I’m a morning person. I didn’t used to be, but that changed.”
In prison.
I nodded. “Thanks.” I took a few sips of coffee and grabbed one of the muffins she made. “Gotta go. I’m sure he’s already waiting for me.” Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I smiled.
“Have a good day. I’ll be home from work around four. If you want, we can grab dinner.”
“We’ll see. We’re supposed to look for a car for me today. So who knows how my day will go?”
“Okay. Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
Sure enough, Fisher was in the truck by the time I made it to the driveway.
“Morning.” He grinned when I opened the door.
I stared at my muffin as I tried to maneuver my bag into the back without squishing the muffin.
“Here.” Fisher leaned over and took the muffin to hold it for me.
I thought about saying “thanks,” but then I remembered I was mad at him for his behavior the previous night.
Tossing my bag in the back, I climbed into the seat and fastened my seat belt.
“Hey!” My mouth fell open as I gasped.
Fisher had eaten half of my muffin.
“You jerk! That was my muffin!” I grabbed his wrist with one hand while trying to pry the rest of the muffin from his grip with my other hand. By the time he softened his grip, the muffin looked like a squished ball of dough.
“Oops …” he stared at the ball in his hand.
“You dumb fucker!” The second that left my mouth, an audible whoosh of air filled my lungs a split second before my cupped hand covered my mouth.
Fisher’s eyes doubled in size as he eased his head to the side like a dog.
I turned away and crossed my arms over my chest. “Just drive.”
Fisher hopped out of the truck. I didn’t care where he was going. I officially didn’t care about him at all. A few minutes later, he returned with another muffin.
“Are we good now?”
I stared at the muffin in his hand. “What did you tell Rory?” I took the muffin and held it because I was no longer hungry.
Fisher put the truck into Drive and pulled out of the driveway. “I told her I took a bite of your muffin. You had a hissy fit and called me a dumb fucker.”
“You what?” I whipped my head back toward him.
“Don’t worry. She didn’t believe me. You have her fooled. You have everyone fooled. Except me. I know you. And you are not the innocent little Christian you pretend to be.”
“Well, you’re not the nice guy everyone thinks you are.”
Fisher shot me a sour expression. “Oh, I’m absolutely the nice guy everyone thinks I am. I’ve been looking out for your immature ass for weeks.”
I scoffed. “You’ve been looking at my butt for weeks, not looking out for it.”
“You must think you have a great ass. What if you’re the only one?”
I started to scoff again, but I caught myself. Nope. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down to his level of cruelty. Once again, he proved how much of a terrible influence he was on me.
My inclination to do what was right.
And my desire to be a kind person.
Fisher granted me some silence, but only for ten minutes. Then he pulled into a car dealership.
“How much are you planning on spending?”
Ugh …
I’d planned on giving him the silent treatment for the better part of the day, but he had to make car shopping our first stop of the day.
“I don’t know. I should probably check with my grandparents. They’ll have to release the money to my account.”
“Well, it would have been smart of you to do that before suggesting we go car shopping.”
I frowned. “I thought it would be smart to know what car I wanted before going to them. They’re going to ask me about the car and how much money I need.”
“Okey dokey.” He pulled into an empty parking space and hopped out of the truck.
I climbed out just as he rounded the front of the truck and held open the door before shutting it behind me and locking it.
He turned, sauntering toward the lot of cars. I leaned my back against the truck door, resting one foot on the running board. A few seconds later, he glanced a foot behind him only to realize I wasn’t there. Then his gaze lifted to me.
Turning, he visibly blew out a long breath.
Yes, Fisher … I don’t always wear socks, and I reserve the right to be upset with you even if you are taking me car shopping.