Dare looks confused, his full lips parted. “Pardon?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I was just…I’m happy I steered over to the side, rather than to the middle. Or you might’ve hit me.”
It’s a morbid thought and what the hell is wrong with me?
Dare stares at me, probably worried that he’s with some sort of psychopath, but he hides it nicely. “But I didn’t,” he points out. “We’re both fine.”
Are we?
“You’re shaking,” he says simply now. And with that, he rubs my arms, and somehow, I don’t know how, I fold into him. It feels right, it feels normal, it feels so freaking good, it feels like I’ve stepped into one of my dreams.
He startles for a second, and then lets me stand there, my forehead pressed to his shirt as he rubs my back. His scent is so soothing… so woodsy and masculine and perfect. He smells just like I dreamed he would. I breathe it in, then sniffle and that’s when I realize that I’m crying.
I’m an utter mess today.
He must think I’m a lunatic.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologize finally, stepping away from him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’ve had a lot to deal with,” he says understandingly. “Anyone would be edgy.”
Would anyone be having a panic attack in the middle of the road, crying on a beautiful guy that she’s only just met?
I look at him. “You must think I’m crazy.”
He shakes his head solemnly. “Nope.”
“Because I’m not,” I insist.
His mouth twitches. “Never.”
I have to giggle now, at the ridiculousness of this situation.
I look at him and somehow, he seems so out of place out here among nature, with his slender, refined body and black eyes.
“Did you see the kitten?” I change the subject.
He shakes his head. “I just saw the dust from your tires on the shoulder.”
I’m worried now because I don’t want to be a cat killer on top of everything else. Dare takes one look at my expression and rushes to assure me, probably because he doesn’t want me to cry on him again.
“I’ll go look for it,” he tells me quickly. “Why don’t you go back up to the house so you’re not standing on the side of the road?”
I hesitate. “I should wait for you. I mean, you’re doing it for me, after all.”
He smiles, a wide bright smile. “You can repay me on a different day. For now, you should get out of the road.”
“But the groceries,” I murmur, already heading back to the car.
“We’ll get them later.”
We.
Dazed a bit, I start up my car, do a three-point turn and head back up to my home. I’m still dazed as I cross the yard and sink into a chair on the porch to wait.
Twenty minutes later, Dare’s bike idles back up the drive.
He’s empty-handed.