She gritted her teeth and came to a complete stop, narrowing her eyes at me. “Stop. Calling. Me. Princess.”
“Maybe stop trespassing on other people's property, and then you can tell me what to do,” I countered. “But, you're here uninvited, so it's not like you got a lot of leverage here. Princess.”
She didn't rise to the bait, but we stood there facing each other, the air between us thick with tension. This tiny little city girl had a scowl on her face that would probably send the hipsters running for cover, but not me. I was made of sterner stuff than most of those city boys.
Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her chin was pointed up, her face a mask of indignation. She was really going to fight me on this, even though she'd trespassed on my land, and with me towering over her by at least a foot.
The girl was feisty, even if she was a bit na?ve. I had to stifle a laugh as she stood there, trying to look tough.
“Come on,” I said, motioning for her to follow me.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I'm giving you a ride to town,” I said. “But, on one condition – I don't catch you on my property again. You hear me?”
She grumbled, but I made out at least one word, “Fine.”
That was enough for me. I reached my hand out to her and said, “Chase Crawford.”
She shook my hand, “Abby Stewart.”
“Nice to meet you, Abby.”
We walked to my pickup truck, and I opened the door, wondering for a moment if a tiny little thing like she was would be able to get in on her own. She had to climb to get into the cab, but when I tried to help her, she refused my hand. She made it on her own and looked back at me, a picture of triumph. Independent woman. I was just thankful she didn't fall out and get hurt, trying to climb in on her own like that. That was the last thing I needed today.
I climbed in on the driver's side, started the truck, and pulled out of the drive. We drove for a bit, neither one of us saying a word. Abby sat there silently, sulking, just staring out the window.
“You live nearby?” I asked.
“Just down the road from you,” she said.
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “You move into Cody William's old home?”
“I guess so,” she said softly. “Just a little blue house out in the middle of nowhere.”
I nodded. “That’d be the place.”
Cody was a good guy. Some might've even called him a friend of mine -- back in the day at least. No one had lived in his house since he took his own life three years before. I figured no one would live there again because of it. Either Abby didn’t know the house’s history, or she wasn’t bothered by things like that. I side-eyed her as I drove.
“What brings you out here?”
Her eyes moved over to me before she turned back to the window, quickly. Her face darkened again and creased with a scowl.
“None of your business,” she snapped.
“Fine,” I said, throwing my hands up. “Just trying to make small talk, Princess.”
“Please, stop calling me Princess,” she said, throwing her head back, the annoyance on her face crystal clear.
“Alright, city slicker,” I said. “That better?”
She shot me a look of pure hatred, which made me smile. For some reason, watching her get annoyed amused me to no end. Probably because she was the one who'd started it. Childish, sure, but also true.
“Where you from?” I asked.
I thought she might not answer, tell me once more that it's none of my business, but she sighed and when she spoke, her voice was soft.
“San Francisco. Happy? Yes, I'm a city girl,” she said.
I couldn't hide the smile. “You didn't have to tell me that, Abby,” I said. “I kinda already figured that out for myself.”
“Oh really? Just because I'm not wearing a ten-gallon hat and a belt buckle the size of my head, I'm obviously from a big city somewhere?” she muttered, shaking her head.
“No, nothing to do with the hat,” I said.
I motioned to my own head – pointing out the fact that I was sans cowboy hat. I preferred wearing a baseball cap if I wore anything at all.
“It's everything,” I pointed out. “It's the perfectly highlighted hair, the shoes not cut out for walking across fields of cow crap. And, oh yeah, the fact that you tried to go all kung-fu ninja on a couple of sweet, harmless Jerseys back there. That pretty much tells me a lot about you – including the fact that you've never set foot on a farm before.”
She huffed and turned away, facing the window again. Her reaction was the only answer I needed. I'd been right about her. Not that I was surprised. A city girl like her wasn't cut out for the country, which made me even more curious about what brought her out there in the first place. It wasn't like we had a lot of tech jobs in old Lynnwood, Texas.
Not that it was any of my business, she was right about that. But, I was still curious.
Town was a few miles away. Not the worst walk in the world, but long enough that most people would prefer to drive. I guess shortcuts through my property were the next best option; at least, until a pack of mad cows descended on you.
“Where did you need to go?” I asked her.
“Just the grocery store, please,” she said.
I pulled up outside Lynnwood General Store and parked my truck. Since we were there, I figured I could pick up some beer. Abby climbed down from the passenger side of the truck and hustled on to the entrance, not even bothering to wait for me. I followed on her heels, her curvy little ass swishing as she walked through the front door.
She was a pretty little thing, that was for sure. Feisty too. If she weren't my neighbor, I'd definitely be into hittin' that. Not wanting to overcomplicate my life though, I wouldn't want to do more than just fuck her for a night or two. If she were up for it, I'd definitely be up for some fun with the city girl. Might even be able to teach her a thing or two while I was at it.
“Are you going to follow me around?” she asked, glaring at me over her shoulder.
“It's not following you if we're headed in the same direction,” I said. “There's only one way in this damn place. It's not exactly a big store.”
“Tell me about it,” she groaned. “Do they even have quinoa here?”
“You're joking, right?” I asked.
She stared at me, face blank and unblinking. Finally, after a second, she smiled wide and started cackling.
“No, I'm not serious,” she said. “I prefer couscous anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. “Damn city slickers,” I muttered.
“Don't blame me if you don't know quinoa from couscous,” she said with a crooked, but adorable grin.
“Now you're just messing with me, aren't you?” I said. “Are those actual things you eat? Or, are they just made-up words to fuck with me?”
“You'll never know, will you?” she said with a wink. “Because I'm just some stupid city girl, after all. I couldn't possibly know something you don't.”
“I never said you were stupid,” I said. “Just not from around here.”
“I know what that means in Texan talk,” Abby said, throwing some coffee in her cart. “You obviously think you're better than me because I didn't grow up on a farm. But, trust me, Chase Crawford, you don't know shit about me.”
She stopped in the aisle and picked up some coffee creamer. So far, very little food had made it into her cart. Not that I was one to judge. Hell, I'd only planned on picking up beer while I was there. Breakfast of champions for me most days.