back of her mind and, picking up the pot of coffee, poured herself a cup.
So much for her having exaggerated her attraction to him, she thought ruefully. If anything, her response to Nick was even stronger this morning than it had been last night. The question was, What was she going to do about it? Or, more accurately, What could she do about it? It was all well and good for her to decide to explore an emotional relationship with him, but to actually do it, Nick would have to cooperate. That was the sticking point.
Don’t worry about what might happen, she told herself. First, deal with what was. And heading the list of things that needed to be dealt with was her stolen car.
“Did the sheriff call?” she asked.
“No. Not that I expected him to. I doubt he gets out of bed much before ten o’clock on a weekend.”
“The joys of small-town living,” she said dryly.
“Human nature is the same no matter what the size of a town,” he said. “It’s just that the behavior is more visible in a small town because there are fewer things to get in the way of seeing it.”
“I’d sure like to know where you have to go to get away from crime if small towns aren’t safe,” she said.
“Heaven?”
Gina sighed dispiritedly. “Probably. This whole thing has sure taken the bloom off my big adventure.”
“That’s right. You said you were running away from home. Why?” He slipped the question in.
“Why what?”
“Why were you running away from home?”
“Because I’d rather be somewhere else. Didn’t you ever want to chuck it all and take off into the wild blue yonder?”
Nick frowned slightly as he considered her words. “Not really,” he finally said. “I’ve often had the impulse to chuck a few people off into the wild blue yonder, but I’ve had no desire to go there myself.”
Odd, Gina thought. She had thought he would have found living in this run-down house in the back of beyond stultifying. Day after day of doing nothing. Going nowhere. Personally, she’d be a basket case after a few months of it. So why wasn’t he longing for a change?
“You like living here?” she asked curiously.
“I’m being driven out of my mind!” His vehemence shocked her. “And I can’t go back to work until my arm is healed. And even then, I’ll have to have physical therapy to regain the dexterity in my fingers. It’ll be at least another eight weeks before I can work again. Maybe longer.”
Always provided he did regain his manual dexterity. Nick swallowed on the cold metallic taste of fear clogging his throat. If there had been nerve damage…
He shoved his long fingers through his thick black hair, and Gina found her eyes following the movement. Wondering about the texture of his hair. Fantasizing about what it would feel like if she were to touch it.
“What exactly did you break?” She stared at the imposing cast that covered his right arm from wrist to elbow.
“My radius,” he said shortly, having no intention of telling her that it wasn’t just a simple break. That the bone had been fractured into eight pieces by a bullet. Telling her that would lead to other questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.
“I see,” Gina said slowly, wondering what he’d been doing when he’d broken his arm. Skateboarding? Skiing? Riding a motorcycle? But despite her intense curiosity, his almost palatable withdrawal discouraged any more questions. And she most emphatically didn’t want him to start thinking of her as nosy. Regretfully she changed the subject.
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