"Uhhuh. Laid back. Sorta like a-" Cut myself off before I compared her to a golden retriever on valium. Must be the blond hair that made me think of it.
"Oh please, you think I drive slow? Be a shame if you had to walk back to the Roadhouse." So what if I stayed close to the speed limit? Considering we were hauling all her firearms across state lines without permits I didn't want to take any chances. She got huffy about her car and honestly, I was more interested in the Stingray then her bitchin and moanin. Well the bitching for sure anyway.
"Yeah, I keep forgetting I'm the scum of the earth for working at the FBI." Nice of her to remind me. "Your Uncle in the military? What branch?" Wasn't sure if she heard my last question when thunder roared from the clouds outside. Maybe we should stop pawing at the cars and get the fire going.