Ellie’s voice drifts to the back and I get an idea. “Can I call you right back?”
“You aren’t going to leave me sitting here too, are you?”
“Get an attitude and I just might leave you to an Uber.”
“Call me back,” she growls and hangs up.
Moseying to the front, it’s Violet that catches my eye first. I toss her a wink.
“Who was that?” Violet asks carefully, trying to make sure that’s what I intended her to do.
“My sister Sienna. She’s stranded at a nail place and needs a ride.”
A look of understand flickers through Violet’s eyes. “Weren’t you dropped off here?”
“Yup. I told her she’d have to take a cab or something.”
Violet looks at Ellie. “Why don’t you take Ford to get her?”
Ellie’s jaw drops as she looks at Violet and then me. “Um, well, I . . .”
“You totally don’t have to,” I say. “Really. She can call someone else. It’s fine.”
“But you were just saying you needed to run out and grab some thumb tacks and stuff, right?” Violet prods. “Let me finish what we were doing and you run Ford to grab his sister.”
“But I . . .” she gulps. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Violet says, nudging her towards me.
“If you don’t want to, Ellie, it’s fine,” I grin.
She searches my face and I can almost see the cogs turning. Finally, she throws back her shoulders and smiles. “Let me grab my keys.”
Ellie
What the hell am I doing?
It takes two attempts to get the keys in the ignition. Ford is too close, looking entirely too sinful, and smelling way too freaking good to think clearly.
In my little car, he completely dominates the space. It’s like my brain refuses to work with him in the passenger’s seat next to me. Where he could reach out and touch me. And move his fingers to my—
“Ellie?”
“Ah!” I say, jumping back in my seat. My hands clasp over my heart as it stalls in my chest. “You scared me!”
“Saying your name?” he laughs. “What on Earth is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes in hopes he doesn’t see me blush. “Where is Sienna?”
He gives me the address, and I pull out onto the street. We drive for a few miles with no sound besides the radio quietly playing a hip-hop station Violet had on this morning.
“Do you listen to this?” he asks, turning the sound up. “This is horrible.”
“It was all Violet,” I laugh. “I usually listen to country.”
“I knew I loved you.”
Pressing a swallow, I try to let those words go in one ear and out the other. I’m sure it was just a slip of the tongue, a casual use of words people say each and every day.