Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(8)

She wasn’t sure if it was the sweltering temperatures or the discomfort she always experienced from being around Nate that made her so grouchy. Probably both. Or maybe she was just pissed at having to make this trip in the first place.

Grigg had managed to get her into one too many scrapes when he was alive—granted he’d always been the one to get her out of them, too—but it was beyond tolerable that her big, lovable, idiotic brother was still involving her in his dubious affairs even from the grave.

Problem was, now there was no way he could come to her rescue.

Which was why she was there, melting in the heat waves oozing up off the Chicago pavement, nerves stretched taut in the resounding silence that surrounded her as she waited for Nate to say something…anything.

Of course that hope was about as constructive as peeing into the wind since he just continued to stand there, staring at her, not moving so much as a muscle to help her with her luggage—the inimitably rude sonofagun.

“So where do you want me?” she finally asked in order to fill the stifling silence.

Something blazed in his eyes for a second, a quick flash that brightened the ebony of his impassive gaze. Then whatever it was disappeared so fast she was left wondering if she’d really seen anything at all.

Nah, she decided, surely not, because that would mean she fired some emotion in him, and as far as she knew, the man was a complete cyborg.

“Well?” she demanded impatiently when the big idiot just continued to stand there. Nate had a kind of predatory silence to him that always disconcerted her. And yes, Big Red was able to pull his eyes away from the television screens to watch the little drama playing out in front of him.

Great.

“You’re gonna stay here? With me?”

Why did he make it sound like she was taking her life in her own hands?

“Yes, I am. I’ve just spent nearly twenty hours in the car, and I don’t have the patience to spend another twenty on a return trip. Greasy roadside café food has left me bloated. Too much caffeine has my eyes rolling around inside my skull like pinballs. I’m tired. I’m thirsty. I’m definitely not staying in a hotel, for reasons I’ll explain once you let me in, and I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d proceed so I can get out of this blistering sun. I thought Chicago was supposed to have temperate summers. It’s a gosh-darn oven out here. In fact, I think my deodorant is starting to fail, and that super-sized slushy I bought over the border in Indiana means I’m pretty sure I’m going to need to use the facilities PDQ. So yes, I’ve a mind to stay here with you.”

…And she’d done it again. That telltale tick beat away in his jaw, informing her he thought she blasted him with a big ol’ load of verbal diarrhea.

But, she told herself, at least she got past the first hurdle—she stated her intentions—even if the delivery was a little long-winded and laughably heavy on the TMI.

“How long?” he asked grudgingly.

“As long as it takes.” She lifted her chin, giving him the facial equivalent of Come on, I dare you.

Silence.

So what else was new?

“Look, it’s the least you can do for the little sister of your best friend,” she added. Yes, she knew that was a low blow, but sheesh, he forced her to pull out the big guns.

“Fine,” he capitulated, though his face was wallpapered with I-so-don’t-want-to-do-this. “But we’ll be going to the main shop…for now.” He turned and headed back through the gates.

“Fine,” she hoisted her purse higher and her gaze snagged on the delicious bulge of his male butt hugged so lovingly in a pair of khaki cargo shorts. Wow. Talk about a gluteus maximus that defied gravity. Even though he was a complete jackass, she couldn’t help but drool.

It was a total waste, in her opinion, that the guy was so surly. Or maybe it was an incredible stroke of luck. Because if he’d had even one ounce of charm, she’d have been a goner from day one.

At seventeen she’d been bursting with hormones and curiosity and the need to fall in mad, passionate love with a boy who’d worship the very ground she walked on. At the time she’d been certain this hypothetical boy would be handsome and funny, with the most amazing, heart-melting smile.

Nate had certainly filled her criteria for handsome. Whew! The first sight of him had fairly knocked her back on her booty.

She remembered it like it was yesterday…

It was the second-to-last day of high school. She wore her favorite pair of cutoff shorts and the T-shirt she’d gotten at the Bon Jovi concert the weekend before. She was preoccupied with the AP Calculus final she was taking during first period—she hadn’t studied as much as she should have—when she skipped into her parents’ kitchen and bam!

It was love at first sight.

That love lasted all of five minutes.

Because it quickly became clear, PFC Nathan Weller lacked any sort of sense of humor and she soon suspected the man didn’t even know how to smile. On top of those woeful failings, he got a pained expression on his face every time she tried to engage him in conversation, which pretty much blew the whole worshipping-the ground-she-walked-on thing right out of the water.

So yeah, it was probably a good thing Nate was surly, or else she’d have lost her heart to him years ago.

He turned around and caught her staring. “You comin’?” he asked laconically, as if he couldn’t care less if her answer was no.