Kiera Hudson & The Lethal Infected Read Free

chuckled mischievously.
    “You really are a flirt, aren’t you?” I scowled at him.
    “I try,” he said back.
    “Too hard perhaps,” I smiled. “So where do you live?”
    “This way,” he said, pointing to a narrow road that branched away to the left.
    My car rattled over the uneven road, the engine groaning. Nev gripped his seat as if fearing my car might just disintegrate into a pile of rust all about him. To drown out the sound of the labouring engine, I switched on the car radio. These Days by Take That started to play.
    “So where do you stay?” he asked.
    “The Crescent Moon Inn,” I told him.
    “Don’t you have a place of your own?”
    What did I say? That my real home was a room I rented back in Havensfield in a completely different where and when ? “I’m in between places.”
    “Did he throw you out?” Nev asked.
    “Who?” I frowned, taking a narrow bend in the road at a crawl.
    “This guy,” he said.
    “No, I left,” I said. “I pushed him away. But I’d rather not talk about it.”
    “Okay,” Nev shrugged.
    “What about you?” I asked, changing the subject.
    “What about me?”
    “What kind of place do you live in?”
    “Right there,” he said, pointing again through the windscreen.
    I peered in the direction he was pointing. A cottage sat back from the road. A sea of bright yellow rapeseed surrounded it. As we travelled the winding road, I could see that the cottage was made from a sandy coloured Devonshire stone. The roof was thatched and the building was squat, giving the appearance of something from a Tolkien novel.
    “That’s real pretty,” I said. “You’re lucky to live in such a place.”
    “I don’t live in the cottage,” Nev said. “I rent out the barn – the studio – that’s behind the back of it.”
    “Studio, huh?” I smiled.
    “Every artist has a studio,” he said, understanding I was teasing him.
    I slowed my car to a stop. I looked at the paved path that led up to the front of the cottage. The lawn was neatly cut and the flowerbeds were a spray of colour. “So who lives in the cottage?”
    “Mavis Bateman. She’s a widower. Her husband died a few years ago – sometime before I rented the barn – studio,” Nev explained. “I don’t pay much rent, but I do help her out around the place. She finds it hard to get into the Ragged Cove these days because of her arthritis, so I go and do the shopping.”
    “So you have a car?” I asked.
    “No,” he said with a shake of his head.
    “How did you get into town this morning?”
    “On my bike,” Nev said a little sheepishly.
    “So you’ve left your bike back in town?” I asked. “Why have you let me drive you all the way home if your bike…”
    “Because I wanted to get a lift with you, Kiera,” he confessed, his cheeks suddenly glowing red.
    “So how are you going to get it back?” I asked, feeling confused but also a little flattered by his confession.
    “I’ll walk back into town later and get it,” he said.
    Then looking at him, I said, “Where’s your crash helmet?”
    “I’d look a bit stupid wearing a crash helmet on a push bike with a basket on the front,” he said, cheeks glowing brighter still.
    “A basket?” I grinned.
    “I need something to put the shopping in,” he said. “Besides, it’s not even my bike, it belongs to Mavis.”
    “And you had the nerve to joke about my car?” I taunted. “At least my mode of transportation has an engine!”
    “Okay, okay,” Nev sighed with a smile.
    “So I take it I’ll be picking you up tomorrow night, unless you intend for me to sit in the basket,” I giggled.
    He sat looking at me.
    “What?” I asked, still trying to contain my laughter.
    “This is the first time I’ve seen you laugh since I met you,” he said. “You should do it more often. You have a beautiful smile.”
    “Thank you,” I said, now it was my turn for my cheeks to grow warm.
    Without saying another word, Nev leant toward me, planting the