Page 41 of Huck Frasier (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #5)

Jessa

I saw the steam coming from the hood. Then the temperature gauge slammed into the red. Then, because the universe hates me, the entire car made a wheezing sound that should never come out of metal.

I coasted onto the shoulder — again — and slammed my forehead against the steering wheel. “I hate you, Ethel. I hate you so much. I’m sorry, I don’t hate you.”

A rumble behind me. A knock at my window. I didn’t have to look. It was him. Mr. Tall, Not A Murderer.

I cracked the window two inches. “What? ”

Rush leaned down, eyes sparkling in the dusk. “I warned you. Pop the door, Jessa.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll call someone.”

He didn’t move. Just braced one arm on the roof, a patient hulk who knew he’d win eventually. “You said you don’t have AAA.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Another knock. “Jessa. Door. Now.”

I opened it a crack, then squeaked as he swung it wide and crouched beside me. Up close, he smelled like cedar and diesel and late-night trouble I absolutely did not want to think about.

“I am not getting in your serial killer truck,” I whispered.

He bit back a grin. “You’d rather wait for mountain lions?”

I folded my arms. “Depends. Do mountain lions ask personal questions and look at me like that?”

Rush leaned in so close that I felt his warmth seep right through my stubbornness. His voice dropped to a murmur only I could hear.

“Sunshine, I’m gonna look at you however I damn well please. Now get in the truck. I’m going to tow your car to the shop.”