“We don’t have any mules.”
“Then I’ll make do with the ponies.”
Punctuating his exit line by letting the screen slam shut behind him, Nick headed around the side of the house—not wanting to admit to himself that Carly’s criticism hadn’t been completely off base. Put him face-to-face with a jerk like Jay Wall and he just couldn’t resist saying the odd thing he shouldn’t. It was a weakness that had gotten him into more trouble than he cared to think about.
Deciding to check out the camp while his temper cooled, he wandered down the drive to the field and surveyed the scene.
There were four generator trucks the size of large moving vans, as well as about fifteen equipment trucks and at least as many trailers and RVs. One of the outside trailers had a sign indicating it was the kitchen, and half a dozen tables with chairs had already been set up at one end.
The site was buzzing with people, all of whom looked busy, so he just walked around the perimeter of the ragged rows, sizing things up and trying to get his mind off Carly. But she was just too annoying to stop thinking about.
He really didn’t like the way she’d talked to him like a damn drill sergeant, and he’d have had a lot more to say to her if her little lecture hadn’t taken him by surprise. But now he was adding “control freak” to his list of her negative traits.
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