Read Online Coming Home to Texas by Allie Pleiter - Free Book Online Page B

you?”
    Nash couldn’t come up with an answer that didn’t make him appear either paranoid or insulting. “No, not really. Everyone’s been welcoming. I like it here. And I chose to come here. It’s just...”
    â€œNot quite what you thought?” Ellie sighed. “I get that. It’s not quite what I remember, either. And I haven’t even been gone very long.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Funny. I thought I’d feel foreign. I do. Then in other ways I don’t. I feel like I don’t fit in, but I feel from here. I can’t really explain it.” She shot him a look. “And I sure don’t need to bore you with it.”
    â€œNo,” he said, surprised by how much he meant it. “I get it. You know you’re different, but no one else seems to recognize it. Or they do, but not in the way you want.”
    Understanding lit the blue in her eyes. “Yeah, like that.” She stood up, walked toward the car and peered under the hood. “It’s a Japanese car, right? Is the manual in Japanese?”
    Nash laughed. “No. And she takes good old American motor oil and gas.”
    She ran one hand down the line of the car’s front panel, a soft stroke of artistic appreciation. “Does it go really fast?”
    Nash pulled the rag from his back pocket and polished a smear off the front headlamp. “Officially, she never breaks the speed limit.”
    That pulled a smile from Ellie. “And unofficially?”
    Nash couldn’t suppress his own grin. “She’s fast. And she corners like there’s no tomorrow.”
    Ellie stepped over the toolbox to lean in the open window. “Is that an eight track? Like from the ’70s?”
    â€œIt’s a cassette player, actually. That was before our time, right? We’re babies of the CD era, you and I.”
    â€œI’d be amazed if the kids in our program even know what a cassette tape is, much less an eight track. I mean, all they know are downloads and smartphones.” She was babbling again. Maybe she was as unnerved by the easiness that seemed to spring up without warning between them as he was.
    Some rebellious part of Nash liked that she’d said “our program.” The way she’d said “you and I” a moment ago had uncurled something in his stomach that ought not be there. But she did look as though something was out of sorts—something beyond the broken engagement. “Did Theo say something? Are there concerns about the program? Or are you having second thoughts about taking such a long leave?”
    â€œSecond thoughts? Oh, about a million.” She ran her hand along the chrome door handle, then down the rear fender, appreciating the car’s bold lines. Nash always enjoyed it when people liked the Z as much as he did. It wasn’t an antique, but it was an exquisite classic and a possession he treasured. “It was a dumb move, I suppose,” she continued. “No one should hit the pause button on a great job like that. Only, I knew I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t stand everyone looking at me the way they did.” She pulled her hand from the car to hug her chest. “There was no place there for me to hide and be hurt, you know?”
    â€œI suppose.”
    She came back to the picnic table and sat down. “So why’d you bolt out of LA? I know you were shot and all, but why did you feel you had to move so far away?”
    He made sure to keep a safe distance between them when he returned to the table, as well. “Well, for starters, I didn’t bolt. The decision was a long, slow process. I had to think a long time before leaving.”
    â€œSo you did like your job back there?”
    â€œI did. I felt like I made a difference. It’s not rocket science—gangs succeed because kids want to know they belong somewhere. They don’t care that it’s the wrong somewhere. Everyone