There would be no way I’d stop myself.

Especially not when she looked at me like she wanted me to do it.

I pulled into an empty parking spot in the garden centre car park and waited for her. We’d gotten split up on a junction when the lights had changed, so I had to wait a few minutes before I finally saw the white Range Rover pull in.

How many cars did she have access to?

She snagged a spot not too far from me and hopped out, turning and locking the car as she headed towards me. “That bloody tourist held me up! If you don’t know where you’re going, pull over. If you can’t do the limit, pull over so those of us who can do it can do it!” She finished her mini tirade with a little huff that was almost adorable.

Almost.

Shut up, Miles.

“How many cars do you have? Are they on a belt like at the supermarket and you flick through them like a catalogue?”

She blinked at me. “What? Oh. The Range Rover.” She laughed and shook her head, putting the keys into her bag. “No. This is Dad’s favourite car, so I don’t usually drive it. Although it is my favourite, too.” She sighed. “He’s not going anywhere so I asked if I could take it because it has the biggest boot. That’s all.”

“That doesn’t answer my question about the cars.”

“Oh. Um. Not including the work ones? Like the truck you’re driving?”

“Not including those. Your personal cars.” I pulled a shopping trolley out and rolled it over to her, then got myself another one.

“Well, there’s the old Land Rover, but we don’t really take that anywhere. Unless someone gets stuck in flood waters.” She flashed me a grin. “There’s this Range Rover that Dad uses, a little Peugeot that Aunt Cat runs around in unless she’s procuring farm animals for her planned petting zoo, the newer Land Rover I usually drive, and I think there are a couple of others. An Audi, maybe, but I don’t know. Nobody ever drove it, so I think Dad might have sold it.” She shrugged and walked into the garden centre in front of me.

“Your aunt is planning a petting zoo?”

“Apparently so. It explains a lot, don’t you think?”

“A little too much. I’m not chasing anymore goats. I hope she knows that.”

“Dad made it very clear he’s not against the idea, but before she procures any more goats, she needs to ensure she can keep Victoria and Albert safe, or he’ll rehome them all.”

“Ouch. That’s rough.” I stopped and looked at her. “Do you know what you need?”

She blinked at me. “Um. I’m kind of winging it, to be honest.”

“Right.” Of course she was. I should have known. “Do you mind if I run through and grab what I need then come back and find you?”

“You want to leave me alone? In a garden centre? With all the plants?” Her dark eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Don’t tell my father you did that. This is dangerous.”