MacKenzie Fire(60)

“Ohhh, people. Where’s my gun, by the way?”

“Under the seat. Don’t take it into the party.”

“I wasn’t going to.” I roll my eyes.

“Who says I do that?” he asks again.

“Is it true?”

He pauses before answering. Then he shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” He’s playing dumb.

“Why do you do stupid things like that?”

“It’s not stupid to have fun.”

“Are you really having fun, though?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Mostly he just stares out at the road scowling.

“I guess things have kind of sucked for you since your wedding was called off.”

“You could say that.”

“I just did.” I smile at him, trying to ease the pressure off the conversation. I love talking to him and I want to know all his secrets, but I know that won’t happen if he knows I’m digging into his life. I have to be stealth about it.

He smiles vaguely and then goes back to scowling. I can’t tell if he’s doing it because he’s mad or because the snow keeps falling and making it hard to see the road.

“Have you had any girlfriends since Ginny?”

“Define girlfriend.”

“Girl you spent time with not drinking and screwing. Girl you hang out with when you could have been doing something else. Girl you spent quality time with. Girl you do nice things for. Girl you want to smooch all night.”

He laughs once. “I guess that makes you my girlfriend.”

That renders me speechless for all of about ten seconds. “Ha, ha, you wish.”

He shrugs. “Hey, you’re the one always trying to see me naked. I figured the feeling was mutual.”

My jaw drops open. “What? You’re crazy. Nobody’s trying to see anybody naked.” My ears are burning. Maybe Ian does read minds after all.

I let the conversation subside after that. I thought I was going to have to use a crowbar to get him to talk, but all of a sudden he’s jumping into me liking him and trying to see him naked. I can’t show up at this party not a hundred percent on my game, and talking to him about these dangerous topics definitely throws me off. My ears will not stop burning.

“What’s the matter?” he asks when we’re finally on the highway. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Nope. Just done talking.” I stare out the side window, even though there’s nothing to see.

“Conversation get a little too hot for ya?”

I snort. “As if.”

“So you admit you’ve been trying to see me naked.”

I have to laugh at his gall. “No. I admit nothing.”

“See, you just admitted it right there.”

I slap him with the back of my hand. “Watch it or I’ll get my gun out.”

“Man, you’re dangerous.”

“You got that right.” I love being called dangerous. That’s probably a bad sign, but oh well.

“And here I thought you were some fluff-headed girl from the city, softer than a lamb’s belly.”

“I am from the city, my hair is fluffy, and I am definitely soft. Not sure how soft a lamb’s belly is, but I moisturize every day, so … yeah. You’ve got me pegged.”

He laughs. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

Likewise, my seriously hot cowboy crush, likewise. But I’m not going to tell you that.

The lights of the town are coming into view, so I use the opportunity to change the subject. I don’t like it when he talks about his impressions of me. They never sound very complimentary.

“How far into town does Boog live?”

“Not far. We’re just five minutes away now. You chickening out?”

“Hell no. I don’t chicken out.”

“I noticed that about you.” He stops at a red light, the first stoplight off the exit. “You’re pretty damn brave, actually.”

“I am?” I look at him to see if he’s joking.

“Hell yeah, you are. You killed a cougar. Saved my ass.”

My heart drops. “Did I really kill it?”

His voice loses its excitement. “Well, no, you just tagged it. I did the killing.”

I can’t help the tremor in my voice. “Are you just saying that to be nice?”

He lowers his chin and looks up at me. “Does that sound like something I’d do?”

“Yes.”

He goes back to driving, the light now green. “I thought I was a hell-raising bad news kind of guy.”

“You are a hell-raiser or so I hear. That doesn’t make you bad news or not nice.”

“Tell that to Andie.”

“Tell her yourself. You just sit there and let people believe what they want to believe, so you can hardly fault them when they jump to the wrong conclusions about you.”

“Who says they’re wrong conclusions?” he asks, turning right into a neighborhood of small houses with large front lawns.

“Me. I say it.”

He pulls up to a curb and shuts off the engine. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”