Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Good. Liz didn’t think they were soul mates either. Nor did she seem to put any stock into what the Major told them. Although the fact that she was talking about the Major meant that she saw him, too. Did that mean the Major was real?
But why didn’t he feel better about the fact that she didn’t seem to have any lingering feelings for him?
Not that he thought she should. Or that he had any for her.
Other than vague feelings of non-hate. And maybe a little bit of envy.
It seemed like she was doing well, like she enjoyed living here and took pride in helping Cloverfield grow.
And it was definitely growing. The Cloverfield he’d seen so far was vastly different from the one he left all those years ago. This one was a place people seemed to be proud to call home. Proud to showcase and proud to continue to try to improve.
Thoughts swirling, Carson darted a glance at Liz.
Who was he kidding? They might not be soul mates, but he could admit when a woman was attractive.
And Liz was definitely attractive. Not just physically.
Sure, he appreciated the way her curves had filled out since college and the way her eyes sparked when she was teasing him.
But he also appreciated the way she came into her own.
The way she’d found her place in life. Figured herself out and cemented her station.
Something he still wondered if he’d truly done.
“Uh oh,” Liz muttered.
“What?” Carson blinked himself out of his musings.
“You’re probably going to want to step on it. Bitch alert at two o’clock.”
Carson followed her line of sight to a busty redhead who appeared to be on a trajectory straight for them. Something about her seemed familiar. “Is that…?”
“Kristi Jenkins.”
“Right...” Kristi Jenkins. Liz’s archnemesis their senior year of high school.
Not his fault, but Kristi hadn’t seen it that way.
She was part of the group he’d gone to junior prom with.
Kristi had somehow gotten it in her head that Carson was her date.
When he left with Liz, Kristi had gone scorched earth. “I take it you two aren’t besties yet?”
Liz snorted. “Hardly. You gonna sit here staring at her and wait for her to rub herself all over you? Because if so, say the word and I will push you out of this cart and get the hell out of Dodge myself.”
Carson threw up an arm to ward off any potential hostile takeovers. “Back off, woman, and hold on!” He reversed out of the parking spot then hit the gas. The fact that Liz grabbed onto his arm to keep from falling out of the cart almost made up for the ice pick that pierced his thigh.
Fuck. Was driving the golf cart one of his not-so-brightest moments? Absolutely.
Was bickering with her while driving it bringing him more joy that it should’ve?
Definitely.
She aimed a glare his way. “Jackass.”
He grinned. Man, did he used to love to get under her skin. The way it made her cheeks flush and her eyes flash. Still did, apparently.
Something warm and pleasant emanated from where her hand still laid on his arm.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at where it rested, then quickly pulled it away.
The lingering warmth took a detour to locations south.
He shifted in his seat and bit back a groan when he remembered why that was a bad idea.
Shit. If he didn’t get himself under control, things could get bad for him very quickly.
Doing his best to focus on the road instead of the woman sitting next to him, Carson cleared his throat. “So, uh, where to next?”
“Hang a left up here.” She gestured to the upcoming intersection.
He slowed down and took the curve, keeping the speed at a much more turtle-like pace. “What’s dear old Kristi up to these days?”
“Why? You want her number?”
“Um, no.” He definitely wasn’t interested in Kristi, but he did enjoy the fact that even the thought that he might be interested still irked Liz so much. “Just trying to figure out who’s still around. What everyone’s up to.”
“Well, Ms. Queen Bitch is the secretary of the chamber.”
“Of secrets?”
“No, dumbass, the chamber of commerce.”
“Oh. Right.” He bit back another smile. Seriously? What was wrong with him? Why was he trying to poke the snarky bear today?
“Thank God Maya found Davis. Poor thing was engaged to Jonah Davenport, who’s the chamber president. Do you remember him? He was a few years ahead of us, from Red Grove.”
Carson racked his brain. “No, I don’t.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a snake.”
“Is he causing problems for your committee?”
“No. Business-wise, he’s fine. But I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
Carson grunted. “So there’s Queen Bitch and Jake the Snake—”
“Jonah.”
“Whatever. There’s your committee. And the mayor, of course.” He chuckled again at the thought of a goat mayor. “Who else is running the town these days?”
“Well, the town council holds most of the power, and currently that’s Walt, Eli, and Mercy. You remember Walt Rawley.”
“Oh. Sure. Rawley’s Hardware.”
“He sold it to his nephew, so Walt’s mostly retired now, but yeah. Mercy’s an EMT who moved from out of state when she and Eli got married.”
“There’s a husband and wife both on Town Council? How’s that legal?”
“They’re divorced now, so not only is it legal, but it’s also highly entertaining to watch them argue during council meetings.”
“Ah. Good to know theater is alive and well in small-town government.”
“Hey. They might fight, but they get the job done. That’s Eli’s house there.” She pointed to a well-kept Craftsman on her right.
Carson let his foot off the gas and peered around her since there were no cars on the road. “Nice. Is that new? I don’t remember that house being here before.”
“Well, it was, but it was the old Miller place.”
“Oh. Right.” Carson could kind of picture it—old, run-down. Definitely a far cry from the house that stood there now.
“He kept some of the bones but changed the overall footprint.”
“Looks great.” He leaned in closer to get a better view. Definitely not because whatever lotion or perfume Liz was wearing smelled so damn good. Something floral. Lavender maybe?
“Yeah. He did a great job with it.” Liz turned in her seat, and her breath hitched. She glanced down at Carson’s mouth, and her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip.
Oh, shit. That mouth. Those lips. Carson wasn’t aware until that second how much he missed them. Missed her.
He was suddenly aware of how close they were. How easy it would be to wrap her in his arms. Kiss her senseless. Take her back…somewhere…and explore each other until they passed out.
As if sensing his thoughts, the green of Liz’s eyes sparked, and her pupils doubled in size.
Silence stretched between them as the atmosphere took on a charge. Carson leaned slightly forward. Liz did the same.
Something that sounded like a maniacal growling cackle echoed through the air.
Liz froze, her lips a whisper away from Carson’s. She put a hand on his chest. What the hell? Had he done something wrong? Was he the one growling?
Instead of answering his silent questions, Liz turned her head, eyeing Eli’s house.
“Liz,” he breathed, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening.
“Shhhh!”
“What?”
“Shut up!” she whispered, still studying the house.
He peered at the house in confusion. Eli’s front porch was empty, and he didn’t see anyone. Everything was quiet and still. Except for the rustling of the bushes on the far side of Eli’s yard. There was that damn growling cackle again.
“Oh, shit. Go! Go! Go!” Liz slapped his arm in time with her demands.
“What? Why?”
Instead of hitting the gas, Carson continued to stare at the bushes. They were moving in kind of a weird way. What the hell would make them move like that?
And then they broke through.
Half a dozen chickens ran hellbent toward the cart like they’d been fired out of a cannon. The leader, if chicken gangs had such a thing, was the largest bird Carson had ever seen, and he’d seen his share of turkeys and pheasants growing up.
“What the hell is that?”
“The reason we have to go!” Liz tried to jam her foot on the gas, but she only managed to step on his foot instead.
Carson grunted. Not from her foot on his, but from the sharp stab in his thigh when he instinctively tried to get his leg out of the way.
“You get out of here right now, Big Bertha!” Liz turned her attention to the side of the cart, swinging her arms wildly as she kicked out a leg. “Shoo!”
“Big Bertha?” Between the pain still rocketing though his leg and trying to make sense of a chicken gang with a leader, Carson felt like his brain was only firing on half cylinders.
“Yep. She’s the ring leader. If we can get her to leave us alone, the others should follow.”
“Well, in that case…” Carson pulled his crutches from the back of the cart and handed one to her. “Here.”
With Liz armed and swinging, Carson turned his attention to getting them out of harm’s way. Except while Bertha was busy with Liz, the rest of the flock fanned out around the cart. Dammit “They’ve got us surrounded!”
“Oh, those sneaky bastards!”
They really were. Carson had never seen such a well-coordinated attack by something that usually met its end in a frier and a bucket. He tried to inch the cart forward, but the attackers only tightened their circle, their aggressive clucks practically begging Carson to try his luck.
“What are you waiting for?” Liz shouted, shifting into him as she waved his crutch at the side of her cart.
While he was distracted by the momentary press of her flesh into his, Carson’s foot tapped the gas pedal, jerking them forward.
The motion unleashed whatever restraint the chickens had, and a tornado of pissed off birds swarmed.
“Argh!” Liz screamed at the same moment one of their assailants rose up next to Carson. With a blur of feathers, it pecked at Carson’s arm before falling back to the ground. The one next in line rose to take its place.