Seduced by the Screenwriter

Chapter 2, Coffee, Tea or Me? Part 2

At nine the next morning, Chett was waiting for her.

He'd acquired a parka and proper winter boots, Catrina noted approvingly as she parked the SUV beside Jenna's garage. He seemed calmer. Rested. There was no sign of the violent emotions he'd vented when splitting logs twenty-four hours earlier.

Chett opened the driver's side door and drew his lips back to expose a blinding set of perfect white teeth in what was intended as a smile. "Good morning." He eyed the dog in the passenger seat, backed off five feet, and continued more loudly. "I need a favor."

Catrina blinked. He'd shaved and showered. Titan's nose twitched as he processed the scent of musky aftershave lotion. The guy cleaned up well, she had to admit. On the other hand she'd been a cop too long to be swayed by a handsome face. 

"Your water's hooked up, the lane is plowed. What more could you want? A ride to the airport?"

Chett's penetrating Caribbean-blue eyes locked on hers, as intent as Titan's when he spied a juicy steak. "Hate to disappoint you, but I'm not leaving. Jenna said I could use one of her vehicles, and that you have the keys. Apparently another of your services is to drive her two SUVs occasionally over the winter so they don't seize up. Also, I'm going to drop off my rental car and need a ride back here. How about it?"

"Sure, no problem." She slid out of her vehicle. "Okay, I'll meet you in Port Carson at the car rental depot. Before I leave here I'll do a security sweep and set the alarm."

"You don't trust me."

He got that right. "Jenna pays me, not you," she crisply reminded him.

After Chett reversed his rental car out of the garage's third bay and drove up the hill and out of sight, she texted Stacey for verification that Chett was authorized to use Jenna's car.

***

Twenty minutes later, after dropping Titan off at home, Catrina pulled into the rental car lot. To her surprise, instead of waiting for her inside the heated office, Chett appeared to be having a conversation with an attendant who'd ducked outside for a smoke.

Catrina tapped the horn. When Chett pulled open the front passenger door, he peered warily into the back seat and rear compartment. No dog. This time a genuine smile punched cute dimples in his tanned cheeks. Her heart jerked. Jeez. She had such a girly weakness for dimples.

He slid in and buckled his seat belt. Shifting into forward, she swung the vehicle around and turned onto the road leading to the village's main street shops.

"You didn't even pull up your hood back there. Are you trying to catch your death?"

Chett aimed a cheerful grin her way. "So you do care."

"You need to write that screenplay, remember?" And the sooner he finished it, the sooner she could return to her peaceful routine.

At the reminder,  Chett's smile dissolved into a grimace. "How cold is it anyway? The weather report on the car radio said minus fifteen Celsius. What's that in Fahrenheit?"

"Five degrees. It's typical for January in Canada, but your constitution isn't acclimatized to this cold."

"It's invigorating."

Catrina slanted a baleful glance in his direction and sniffed the air a couple of times. "Have you been drinking? It's not yet ten o'clock, for God's sake."

"What are you, a cop?" He glared at her.

"An ex-cop, as a matter of fact," she shot back.