Toad

by Cambria Hebert

  I glanced away from the empty, hick-style street for like ten seconds. Twenty tops.

  A loud sound filled the air and made me jolt upright. The SUV sagged crookedly, and suddenly, I felt I was in some old rap video the way the truck was bobbing around on the road.

  “Plot twist!” I yelled.

  Slowing down, I didn’t bother to pull to the side. I highly doubted anyone else was going to happen along on this road, so I just stopped right in the center.

  Leaving the car running and the driver’s door open, I jumped out and stared down at the flat tire. Shoving a hand through my hair, I gazed off in the direction from which I came, wondering what in the hell I’d hit that would blow out my tire like that.

  It was probably bones. From the dead body of the man who last drove this road.

  Where the fuck am I anyway?

  The sun was already beginning to sink low in the sky. The temperature was cooler than I expected it to be in the South, so without any hesitation, I went to work changing the flat.

  It only took me about thirty minutes, maybe a little more, to get the job done. My fingers were stiff from the cold, and the sky was definitely darker than it was when I started. As I was packing up the tools, a sound, familiar yet not one I would think to hear right then, caught my attention.

  Pausing, I cocked my head to the side as I wiped my greasy hands on the front of my T-shirt.

  I heard it again.

  Quickly, I finished up and closed the back of the Tahoe and turned toward the sound. It was off to the side, not on the road, but off toward some bushes about thirty yards away.

  Walking toward it, I fully expected to see it dart away. I mean, my presence here wasn’t exactly normal either.

  Maybe that’s why it didn’t move. Because we were both in a foreign, unexpected place.

  The closer I got, the quieter it became, and when I finally crouched down and looked into the shrubs, it was there, hunkered and shaking.

  “Hey there, little dude.” I kept my voice low. I stood back up, did a full three-sixty, looking for any nearby houses or anything I might have missed.

  Nothing.

  Nothing but open space and a single road that wasn’t even paved. A chilled wind kicked up, pressing against my bare arms. My skin prickled with bumps.

  I glanced back down at the bush and shrugged. “Finders keepers.”

  Then I slowly crouched back down and reached for my discovery.

  As I walked back to the SUV, I grinned. Guess I wouldn’t be going to Aerie’s without a gift after all.

  Aerie

  It was full dark when the buzzer went off.

  I nearly jumped out of my socks when it happened. With a rapidly pounding heart and breaths coming in short gasps, I questioned my decision to send the staff home. I’d only wanted to be alone. To have some peace. To not worry about who was looking at me, and what they might (or might not) see.

  I got what I wanted.

  Solitude.

  And now someone was buzzing down from the gate, wanting onto my property.

  I made the decision to ignore it. I didn’t invite anyone over, so therefore, they weren’t welcome and shouldn’t be here. That meant the gate stayed locked.

  It buzzed again.

  And then again.

  The fourth time, it was for an extended amount of time.

  I was good and irritated when I got up and marched over to the command panel installed on the wall. After a few quick taps, I had the camera feed from the gate pulled up.

  I frowned when I saw the giant black SUV with bright, glaring headlights.

  I hit a button and spoke. “What?” I demanded, hoping I sounded like I had a gun. A big one.

  “‘Bout time! Geez, I thought you were in there passed out or dead. Good thing you answered or we would have both been embarrassed when the cops got here.”

  My mouth went slack. His was the last voice I expected to come out of the heavily tinted windows. I barely knew him, but he was the only person I’d met that could go on and on in such a ridiculous way.

  “Go away, Nate,” I intoned, released the button, and started to retreat.

  The buzzer went off again. And then again.

  Racing back over, I yelled into it, “Stop doing that!”

  “I have to pee!” he whined.

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Pee in the bushes, then!”

  He gasped. “That’s unsanitary.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like you care.”

  All the charm in his voice evaporated. “Open the gate, Aerie,” Nate intoned.

  A shiver worked its way up my spine, and I wanted to open the gate. The intensity of that caught me off guard. The sudden intensity of him.

  I wanted to be alone.

  Didn’t I?

  I punched in a code and watched on the monitor as the large wooden gate swung open. The second it was wide enough for the SUV, it drove through and out of sight. My stomach fluttered as I watched the gate close.

  Pressing a hand to my middle, I blew out a breath. The softness of my sweater made me glance down. I grimaced instantly, a note of panic washing over me. Oh my God! I looked a mess! Having alone time meant being comfortable.

  Being comfortable = wearing whatever I wanted.

  And what I wanted was to wear no pants.

  Or makeup. Or a bra… Hell. I slapped my hand over my head and felt around my hair. Crap. I hadn’t even brushed it.

  As I stood there and nearly hyperventilated about how my appearance was lacking, I realized something. This was stupid.

  I didn’t want him here. This was my house. I could dress (or not dress) however I wanted. And furthermore, he wasn’t staying!

  Upon that internal declaration, I marched out of the sunken living room, away from the welcoming fireplace, my book, and blanket, toward the front entry. Flipping on the large overhead fixture that looked like a lantern, the entire entryway lit up. Light spilled out all the front windows and stretched across the wooden decking that led to the wide steps leading to the front door.

  Absentmindedly, I pulled at the oversized, baby-pink sweater, making sure it was covering my bottom. It was all I had on, except for panties and a pair of chunky-knit gray knee socks.

  Headlights from his SUV bounced around out front. I opened the wood and glass front door and stepped outside. Night air brushed over the backs of my thighs and my knees. Shivering a bit, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the car.

  The engine shut off and lights went out, leaving us with only the light from the interior of the foyer.

  “Am I even still in the United States?” Nate quipped, getting out.

  “The drive isn’t that bad,” I spat.

  He walked around to the front of the car. I could practically taste the smart-alecky remark he was ready to deliver. Then he looked up. Did a double take.

  No words passed his lips.

  “What are you looking at?” I said, hands on hips, suddenly very shy about my unkempt appearance.

  “You forgot your pants,” he replied, eyes lingering on my legs. Then as if by sheer force, his gaze averted to his feet.

  Something about that reaction totally endeared him to me. Instead of staring, making a lewd comment, or even mocking my lack of put-togetherness, he looked away. Like he was shy. Like he wanted to respect me.

  I didn’t feel the cold air in that moment. Not at all.

  It scared the shit out of me.

  “I didn’t forget,” I replied, tart. “I thought I was going to be alone.”

  He looked up. “They didn’t tell you I was coming?” The wind shifted again, blowing his deep-red locks onto his forehead.

  I anticipated the action of him pushing it out of his face, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his left arm anchored at his middle.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You aren’t staying.”

  “I’m pretty sure the closest hotel is like in the next state.” His arm moved, and then he jolted. “Ow!�
�

  I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, but he yelled again.

  “Shit!” Nate squirmed, trying to get away from whatever his issue was but at the same time, still keeping his arms close around his middle, as if he were holding something.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull right now, but it’s not going to work. Might as well get back in that ride and be gone.”

  Nate was still wiggling around and glanced up. “Excuse me?”

  I watched, part incredulous, as he spun, putting his back to me, and hunched forward. I leaned up on my tiptoes, wondering what on earth he was doing, but from my position, I couldn’t see. I heard him, though.

  “I know we just met and all, but, dude, I thought we had an understanding.” Then… “I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding. Not cool.”

  “Look, I know you’re a weird guy…” I began. “But this is weird, even for you.”

  He finished what he was doing, then straightened, but didn’t turn around. “Sure I can’t stay?” he asked.

  “Negative.”

  He spun. “What about this little guy?”

  I gasped and rushed down the stairs. “Oh my God,” I said, trying to keep myself from squeeing and scaring what Nate had just produced.

  It was a kitten. A small, fluffy little thing. He was orange with bright-blue eyes and a tiny little head.

  My hand moved out, hovering near where he was tucked against Nate’s chest. I wanted to stroke his fur so much, to see if it was as soft as it appeared.

  “Where did you get her?” I asked.

  “It’s a boy. I looked.”

  My eyes shot up to his, and he grinned. My God, his eyes were so green. And this close, I could see some light-red stubble lining his jaw. He was rumpled, as though he’d been traveling all day to get here.

  I tore my gaze away from him and back to the little bundle in his arms. The kitten was squished against him, peering at me like he wasn’t so sure if I was good or bad.

  “Where did you get him?” I corrected.

  Nate hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “A while back. On that damn Oregon Trail I had to drive down to get here.”

  I glanced up. “You saw him and stopped the car?”

  “No, I had a flat. When I stopped to change it, I heard him crying in the bushes.”

  I made a stricken sound without even trying and reached for the kitten. “You poor little baby! You must be freezing.” Nate surrendered the cat instantly, and I cuddled him close to my chest. His tiny little claws flexed into my sweater and gripped on, but I didn’t mind.

  He was soft.

  “Let’s get you inside,” I crooned. “Poor baby.”

  I was almost to the front door when Nate called out, “Hey! What about me? I’m cold, too!”

  I stopped and glanced over my shoulder and sighed loudly. “Fine. Come on.”

  I heard him scrambling up the stairs behind me, but I didn’t wait. I just went on into the house, leaving the door open for him. I walked back down into the sunken living room where the glow from the fire and a single lamp illuminated the room. I sank down into the oversized chair I’d been reading in and looked down at the kitten.

  He meowed at me. I made a sound and stroked his fur. “Here we go,” I murmured and lifted the blanket, tucking it around him like he was a baby.

  He began to purr almost immediately.

  Movement across the room pulled my eyes up. Nate was standing just inside the room, watching me. I couldn’t make out the expression he wore because it was more shadowed where he stood. “I guess you like cats,” was all he said.

  “I like all animals.”

  “Figured you might.”

  I tilted my head. “Why?”

  He shrugged and moved across the room toward me.

  “I need to get him some food. And water. He’s probably starved.”

  “Probably.”

  His voice was very near, but not much louder than before. That intensity I felt earlier emanated off him in waves. It was almost warmer than the heat coming off the fire.

  I looked up. He was so close I had to tip my chin back to meet his eyes. I swallowed thickly, not sure what to say. What to do.

  Nate crouched in front of the chair. His body was so close it almost bumped my knees. He wasn’t looking at me, though, but the cat. His long fingers stroked over the kitten, and I noticed the bright-red scratches all over the back of his hand and giggled.

  Nate glanced up swiftly, then down at his hand. “Feisty little fella.”

  “Does he have a name?” I asked, unable to pull my eyes away from his face. His irises were so green. So rare.

  “I’ve been calling him Cheeto.”

  “Cheeto,” I echoed.

  “Yeah, cause he’s orange like one.”

  I laughed.

  The cat squirmed, and I struggled to hold on to him. My knees brushed against Nate’s chest, and a jolt of awareness went through me. His hand shot out, palming the side of my leg as he balanced.

  My teeth sank into my lower lip. Then I jerked back. “I need to get him some food,” I spoke, abrupt. My voice was like a needle popping a giant bubble.

  “I’ll hold him.” Nate shifted back and stood.

  I handed over little Cheeto, careful not to let our hands brush, and then practically ran from the room under the guise of finding food for the kitten.

  Nate

  Her house wasn’t really a house.

  It was basically a ranch with a giant, fancy log cabin perched in the center of it.

  With a gate (obviously).

  It wasn’t what I was expecting. Well, aside from the fancy part.

  It was the kind of fancy that was throwing me off. And the location.

  I expected Aerie to be a city mouse. Hollywood and L.A. through and through. You know, the kind of girl who liked shopping, coffee, and restaurants all in close proximity. All the conveniences at the touch of a finger. I expected sleek lines, white paint… chrome.

  This was the complete opposite. There was land for miles, mountains, and reaching modern conveniences would require significant time in the car. The house itself was warm and comfortable. It was a place you could live in, not just look at. I wanted to settle in and watch football on a Sunday, play my guitar by the fire, and eat Fruity Pebbles on the couch.

  What surprised me more was that she fit in. Aerie didn’t appear out of place at all in this country setting… I didn’t know her well, but I was willing to bet a corndog that she looked more herself here than anywhere else.

  It didn’t hurt she wasn’t wearing pants either.

  What a fucking test that was, not to stare at those damn long legs sticking out from beneath that soft-looking sweater.

  There was attraction between us.

  Don’t tell anyone, but it shocked the hell outta me.

  Not that I was attracted to her. Um, she was hot.

  But her attraction to me. I know I often say how much the ladies love the Nate Train… but you know, I might be overestimating a bit.

  Or a lot.

  Truth was I was kinda awkward. Goofy. Definitely not the smoothest when it came to women or talking to one. Maybe that’s why I adapted such a sarcastic personality. It was easier to have a woman laugh and roll her eyes at me than turn me down flat.

  I wasn’t the best-looking guy in the room either. Definitely not like the kind of guys Aerie was used to hanging with.

  Still, she was interested in me. She hated it (which oddly made me like it more), and she definitely tried to hide it, but you couldn’t hide energy. She definitely didn’t hide it by avoiding my hands earlier and then rushing from the room as though her ass were on fire.

  I don’t know how the hell I managed to catch her attention, but I wanted to keep it. I probably wouldn’t. I mean, I couldn’t keep something if I didn’t even know how I attracted it in the first place.

  Cheeto was a good move, though. He at least got me in the door.

  You
aren’t here for a date, man. You’re here for a job. For a job that will pay a shit ton of money.

  “Here we go.” Aerie’s voice broke into my thoughts. She was carrying a large tray with a handle on each end.

  The pink bows at the top of her socks practically teased me, but I forced my attention up to her face.

  “From the bushes to dinner by the fire,” I told Cheeto. “You’re moving up in the world, buddy.”

  Aerie laughed and set the tray on the brick hearth near the fire, then sank down on the rug beside me. “Can I have that blanket?” she asked, motioning behind me.

  I reached into the chair and grabbed the blanket, handing it over to her. She tucked it over her lap, then adjusted her legs so she was sitting Indian style under it. When she was done, she set a small white dish on the floor between us. On it was chopped-up chicken. Beside that she placed a bowl of water and then a small bowl of what looked like milk.

  “You aren’t really supposed to give cats milk, but he’s had a rough night,” she explained.

  Cheeto went to the food immediately and started scarfing it down.

  “He’s going to be sick!” She worried.

  “He’ll be all right,” I replied. “Though, you might want to find him a litter box.”

  She frowned. “I don’t have any cat litter.”

  “We can shred up some paper,” I suggested.

  She nodded. Her hair, which I’d only ever seen sleek and straight, bounced around her head. It was wavier and rumpled-looking today. More natural.

  And her skin was completely free of makeup. No red lips tonight. But her cheeks were pink, maybe from the cold. Maybe from excitement.

  She looked younger like this. Vulnerable.

  “I’ll have some supplies picked up and brought out for me tomorrow morning,” she said, thoughtfully.

  “You have a staff here?” I asked, curious.

  “Not a big one. I have someone who takes care of the house and land. Kind of like a foreman, I guess. And I have a housekeeper who cleans and stocks the fridge. Sometimes she cooks for me. A few other people who do things like that. But no one’s here now. I sent everyone home. I meant it when I said I wanted to be alone.”