Chapter 8
Nash pulled up outside Miss Sarah’s neat little house, more than happy to be there. The entire journey she’d talked about Luna “pain in the ass” McKinley.
“Don’t move.” He got out and ran around the hood to open her door. Lifting her in his arms again, he walked up to the front door of the house. It opened before he could turn the handle.
“Sarah!”
“I’m all right, Marla. It’s my turn this time to hurt my ankle.”
They were peas in a pod, these two, Nash thought. He still couldn’t tell them apart if they stood before him. He walked into the house and lowered Miss Sarah to a chair. Every available space seemed to be filled with something. Tables, vases, cups, and saucers. Rugs scattered around the floors. All the frills and girlie stuff were enough to make him itch.
“I was running with that lovely Luna McKinley and Mr. Goldhirsh. After I fell, Luna went to collect Nash. He carried me to his cabin, and then drove me home.”
Miss Marla pulled another chair for her sister to put her foot on, then hurried to the freezer for an icepack. Nash decided that was his cue to leave. His morning of peace had been destroyed; he might as well claim the rest of his day off for what he actually wanted to do.
“I’ll head home then.”
“Oh no, dear, let Marla make you something to eat,” Miss Sarah said. “Lovely, handsome, big boy like you needs nourishment.”
Nash never blushed. He was hard and jaded, but he could feel his ears heating up again.
“No, that’s okay, th-thanks,” he managed to get out. “I need to go to work.”
“Marla, give him that container of muffins.”
“No, really.” The container was handed to him, so he took it. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you, dear. It would have been a long walk back had you been not home or busy.”
“Sure, and no worries. Take care, and bye,” he said, walking to the door.
“Oh, and Nash. You try to be a bit nicer to Luna, dear. She’s very sweet,” Miss Sarah called. “She can’t help that she’s famous and beautiful.”
Nash walked out muttering. He climbed in his pickup and backed out of the drive. His stomach rumbled, telling him it was well past time he filled it. Opening the container, he took out a muffin. The bite confirmed it was as good as it looked. A hit of lemon filled his mouth. Heading into town eating, he parked on the main street.
He allowed himself a small smile now no one was watching, even a snort. Thinking about hot-assed Luna McKinley throwing her running shoe at him in a fit of rage had, for some reason, made him want to laugh out loud. Well, it had after he’d calmed down. He wasn’t happy she’d told anyone he played classical guitar. Even his siblings kept that quiet.
She’d said she would rather have sex with a skunk than him, but he’d seen her checking him out when he’d opened the door. Nash wasn’t conceited, he knew what he was. Fit, strong, and tanned. Yes, women liked him until they got to know him, then they ran and didn’t look back.
He’d had his share of nights with women who wanted an itch scratched just like him, but since his last disastrous attempt at a relationship, he’d decided long-term wasn’t for him. Nash had realized that he loved with way too much intensity.
Thinking about Luna got him heated, so he pushed away visions of her fine ass in those tight shorts and fitted tank, and got out of his pickup.
He was ordering a full breakfast and coffee to go. Chances were if he stayed, someone would try and talk to him. He’d conversed enough for at least four days already, and he’d only been awake a few hours.
“Man, that’s twice in two days. You’ll be losing your grumpy asshole tag if you don’t stop leaving your compound.”
“Trainer.” He nodded to Luke as he drew level.
“What’s up?”
“Why should anything be up?” Nash asked.
“You looked more pissed off than normal.”
Luke had that easy smile those Trainer brothers had perfected. Dressed in his fireman’s uniform, he looked vital and happy. Nash could never be accused of being either of those.
“It’s early, my stomach’s empty, and I just got verbally manhandled by the Robbins sisters.”