Catching Sparks (Cherry Peak Book 2)

Garrison looks far morecomfortable behind the wheel of the sleek rental car than he ever has the one in the farm truck. I can’t help but stare at him as we drive, greedy for more of him after suffering this past week.

He’s upset beneath all the nonchalance he’s attempting to portray. The corners of his mouth pull down every few moments before he remembers to readjust them into a firm line, and while he may be trying to concentrate on not tensing his jaw, I’ve spent too much time staring at it not to notice when his control slips.

I’m used to seeing his hair styled to perfection with a perfect front swoop and not a stray hair out of place, regardless of the circumstance, but there’s no swoop today. He doesn’t look like a mess, but I’ve spent enough time with him to notice when he’s not himself.

The radio plays softly, and the dark leather seats hug me in a way that only comes from luxury options. There’s a screen bigger than any I’ve ever seen in the centre of the dash with the GPS open to a map of the area, but no location locked in or directions loaded.