Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (196 page)

“I
heard
you,”
Aggie
said.
“
I
meant
why
do
you
ask?”

“Because
we’re
almost
there
and
I
want
to
know
what
to
order.”

“They
don’t
have
a
drive-thru…”

“No,
but
I
want
to
be
prepared.”

“Ok…”
She
took
a
deep
breath
and
said,
“I
want
the
Polish
dog
with
sauerkraut
and
pickles.”

As
he
pulled
into
the
only
empty
parking
space,
Luke
said,
“I’ll
be
right
back.”

Left
alone
in
the
truck
again,
Aggie’s
anger
level
rose
exponentially.
She
stepped
outside
and
glanced
at
the
ignition.
Keys
were
still
in
it.
Once
retrieved,
she
locked
it
and
hurried
inside.
Luke
was
already
ordering
so
she
waited
in
line
to
order
a
drink.

It
was
almost
worth
the
morning’s
irritation
to
see
the
stunned
look
on
his
face.
“You
shouldn’t
have
left
the
truck.
Someone
might
steal—”

“I
locked
it.”
Oh,
this
was
going
to
be
good.

“Aggie,
the
keys
are
in
there!”

“Well,
they
were.
I
took
them
out.
Apparently
this
immature
little
pipsqueak
can
do
something
right.”
She
jingled the keys and stuffed them in her pocket before
stepping
up
to
the
register.
“I’d
like
a
large
Coke—extra
ice.”

“It
might
not
hurt
to
help
you
cool
off,”
he
muttered.

“I
thought
it’d
work
for
that,
but
I
planned
to
cool
you
off.”

The
girl
behind
the
counter
snickered
and
filled
a
cup.
“That’ll
be
one
seventy-nine,
please.”

She
dug
out
the
bills
and
passed
them
across
the
counter.
“I’ll
take
mine
over
at
that
table,
Luke.”

“Do
you
think
that’s
a
good
idea?”

She
rolled
her
eyes
at
the
girl
behind
the
counter.
“Apparently
I’m
an
idiot
now
too.”

“Mibs…”

With
every
effort
to
appear
cool
and
collected,
Aggie
walked
to
the
table
she’d
indicated
and
seated
herself.
Who
am
I
kidding?
I
just
stormed
over
here
like
Cari
when
she
doesn’t
get
her
way,
she
thought.
Then
again,
he
is
being
such
a
jerk
about
it
all…

“Is
that
one
mine?”
Aggie
reached
for
the
one
with
a
big
S
on
it.

“Yes.”

She
wanted
to
gloat
over
his
sulking,
but
there
was
a
problem.
He
wasn’t.
He
might
be
angry;
she
couldn’t
tell.
W
ithout
any
other
idea
of
what
to
do
about
their
situation,
she
focused
on
what
she
could
control—her
enjoyment
of
the
hot
dog.
Unfortunately,
it
was
almost
tasteless.
It
almost
seemed
as
if
her
taste
buds
were
powered
down
when
her
anger
levels
rose.

“I’m
mad
at
you.”

“So
I
gather.”

“And
we’re
just
going
to
ignore
this
because
my
silliness
is
not
worth
addressing,
right?”