Someone Like You

Chapter Eight

Brea

"Siri, where is the closest coffee shop?"

My phone thinks for a moment before chirping back a response. The map tells me it is a forty-three-minute walk. Sighing, I pull up the number for the taxi service. I dial and listen to the line ring out. After three attempts, I give up, scowling. I don't know how anyone enjoys living out here.

Wiping a hand down my face, I groan. Sweat drips down the back of my neck from the unrelenting heat. My bronze skin is turning a light shade of red from being out in the sun for too long unprotected.

Cupping my hand in a half-moon shape, I watch silently as a familiar looking ute rumbles toward me. I purposely ignore it as it idles to stop.

"Hi!"

Reluctantly, I look up, to see Mila beaming at me, her cheeks a pretty, rosy red.

A frowning Zander leans over her head. "What are you doing standing out there in this heat?"

"I'm trying to find a way back to town."

Exhaling heavily, he leans back. "Get in."

"No thanks."

"It's too hot for you to be standing out here. I'm heading back that way."

"With the guy who stood me up with no proper explanation? I'll pass."

"Please!" Mila says. "We are getting ice cream."

Damn. Ice cream sounds amazing right now.

"Get in the truck before I make you."

A shiver of something rolls down my spine at his commanding tone. Scowling, I awkwardly climb over the booster seat that Mila is in. I slip in between the baby seat and Zander who seems to take up most of the space.

Our arms rub against each other and I try not to show indifference.

"Thanks, I guess." I say, just to say something.

"You're welcome, I guess."

Mila claps her hands together in excitement.

"Yours?" I ask, my eyes drifting toward his bare fingers. No ring, thankfully. That would have made this awkward situation so much worse. If she is, he would have had to have been very young, but that isn't unusual around here.

"Hmm?"

"Mila?" I say.

"She's my niece."

Zander drums his fingers against the steering wheel. I shift, trying to peel myself from him and lean toward Mila, but there's no space to do such thing. I feel the sweat forming on my brow but don't want to wipe it off and draw attention to it.

"Uncle Z loves hanging out with me," Mila proudly boasts. "I'm his favourite niece."

"My only niece," he points out.

"I love your nails," I smile at her. The sparkly pink polish is more on her fingers than her nails. "Did you do them yourself?"

"Uh huh," she nods, wiggling her fingers around to further show them off.

"Very pretty!"

Settling back against the seat once more, I look ahead. I try to think of more things to say to Mila, so I can avoid this awkward silence, but I draw a blank.

"How long are you here for?"

Zander's voice is deep and rough, but warm and soft at the same time. I could listen to him talk for hours, which would probably be an impossible task since he doesn't speak more than he has to, although he does try to make effort when we're in forced proximity such as this.