Read Online Violets in February by Clare Revell - Free Book Online

not?”
    “Take this one. ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door.’ It’s about dying.”
    “And?” he demanded, glancing at her before returning his gaze to the road. And he used the term road loosely. “‘Sweet Child of Mine’ isn’t. That’s about a woman and hiding in her hair until the storm passes.”
    “So you’d hide behind a woman then?”
    Jed scowled. “Why do you take every blasted thing I say and twist it?”
    “Why do you have to swear every other word?” she demanded.
    “Strewth! The point of heavy metal is you take a story or poem that means something, hence the heavy bit, and put it to rock music. I wouldn’t expect someone like you to get it.”
    She twisted around to glare at him. “Someone like me?”
    “Yeah, someone like you. A do-gooder, holy roller…”
    The truck hit a rut and she cried out, grasping her knee. “Just look where you’re going. And I happen to like and appreciate music. Just not this kind.”
    “Well, I forgot to pack one hundred greatest hymns or Cliff Richard, I’m afraid.”
    Lucy rolled her eyes. “Then I shall suffer in silence.”
    Jed swore and flipped off the music. “Better?” he demanded. At the same time he wished she didn’t look so darn cute when she rolled her eyes and tossed her head. It wasn’t making life any easier for him. He wanted to hate her, needed to hate her, but his whole blasted body was conspiring against him here. Never mind where his mind was taking him at the most inopportune moments.
    She smiled. “Much better, thank you.”
    He shook his head and glared at the road again. Why’d she have to do that? His heart longed for her to do it again.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Any other Simon and Garfunkel tracks you like?”
    She frowned. “Simon and—Oh, right. ‘The Sound of Silence.’” She closed her eyes, pressing her fists into them. “Can I ask you something?”
    “Go for it.”
    “Your earring.”
    His finger traced the stud in his left ear. “What about it?”
    “Isn’t that…” Her voice faltered. “Doesn’t that mean you’re—?”
    Jed slammed on the brakes. That crossed the line. How dare she question his manhood like that? Anger spilled from him. “Left is right and right is wrong!” he snapped. “I’m as straight as the next bloke. Just because I’m not married and have tattoos and an earring does not mean I’m gay. Why’d you have your ears pierced?”
    He took great satisfaction as she blushed and shifted in the seat. “Well?” he demanded.
    “My friend had hers done for her birthday when she was sixteen, and I wanted mine done.”
    “So if your friend stuck her head in a gas oven, you’d do the same?”
    “No.” Indignation filled her eyes and voice. “It’s just—”
    “Strewth! I’m gonna put you talking utter bulldust down to the fact you’re crook and high on pain meds.” Jed turned off the engine and yanked up the handbrake.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Gonna bung the billy on for a cuppa.”
    “You’re going to what?”
    He sighed, and opened the door. “Boil some water and make a cup of tea, its dinner time. Crikey. Anyone would think you didn’t speak a word of English.”
    “I speak English, French, and Swahili just fine, thank you. The jargon you come out with is an entirely different kettle of fish.”
    He grinned. “Give me a week, and I’ll have you talking Strine like an Aussie.”
    “Thought I was a Pommy.”
    He cocked his finger at her. “Want some tea, then? You’re a Pom, must drink gallons of the stuff each day.”
    She nodded. “Tea would be good. Want a hand?”
    “No, I can manage. You sit there and rest for a few.” He left the truck and surveyed at the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
    There was no way he was going to outrun this storm. No matter how much he wanted to.

6
    Jed set the water to boil on the small camping stove. This would take longer than he’d hoped.
    Five hours on the road and they’d gone a