Page 89 of With Spite

Maybe I’d leave my dirty clothes at his house, too, so I wouldn’t have to have a bag at all next time.

By the time I was finished with my bag, Hux had gathered all the stuff from his place and was waiting by the door glaring out the front glass.

“What is it?” I asked as I came up behind him.

“The Hubers,” he grumbled. “All watching your house like the fucking creeps that they are.”

I bumped his hip with mine. “Let’s go.”

He opened the door for me and held it open for me to precede him outside.

He had the door locked and the truck door open for me before I’d made it to the bottom of the walk.

“Getting your snow legs?” he teased.

“This walking and not falling on your ass thing is kind of scary,” I admitted. “I’ve never had to deal with snow like this. Maybe I should get home early and shovel my walk.”

“No,” he muttered. “I’ll do it.”

I snorted. “You can’t shovel my walk for me, Hux.”

I climbed up into the truck, but he caught me before I could close the door, leaning in close before saying, “Says who?”

Then he pecked me on the chin and closed my door, but only after ensuring I was safely buckled in.

He said something to the Hubers as he rounded the hood, then he was leaving before he’d had the chance to put his seat belt on.

“What’d they say when you were leaving?”

His jaw worked. “Comments about your ass that I’d rather not think about, lest I turn around and shove my steel-toed boots down their throats.”

My lips quirked. “They can’t even see my ass.”

His face turned toward me for half a breath before saying, “If I can, they can.”

The drive to his place was uneventful.

He never put his seat belt on the entire time, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hey,” I said after a while. “Why does your seat belt not ding and mine does? We have the same truck, only a few years difference.”

“Because I turned off the sensors in the seat belt.” He winked. “The dinging drives me insane.”

I gasped. “Can you do that to mine?”

He pulled into the covered parking spot next to the warehouse before saying, “No.”

I pouted. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you driving without your seat belt,” he said. “If it dings, it’ll annoy you, and you’ll put it on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Isn’t that a little bit hypocritical?”

He shrugged. “I care about you a little more than I care about myself.”

I harrumphed. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold.”

It was cold.