Page 1 of Need (Men of Inked Sinners #3)

LULU

“Stupid car.” I kick the tire, hating the potholes that never seem to go away and only grow bigger through the winter.

I didn’t even see the damn thing in the middle of the road before my entire brain was jarred from the impact and my tire popped like it was a flimsy balloon.

I bend down, staring at the damaged rim. “Damn it.”

This isn’t going to be a simple change-the-tire job that I could do myself.

I really don’t have time to deal with this today.

I have a meeting with a new client in two hours to go over the whole-house organization package she purchased from me yesterday.

Business has really started to take off lately, especially since I began posting my work on social media more consistently .

I grab my phone from the passenger seat and dial the number for roadside assistance. The woman on the other end tells me someone will be to me within a half hour.

Me: My tire’s blown.

Tate: Oh no. Want me to come get you?

The last thing I want is for Tate to come rescue me. She is a new mom and has bigger responsibilities than bailing me out for a stupid tire.

Me: No. Roadside is on the way.

Nino: What happened?

Me: Pothole.

Mason: Hate them. It’s why I won’t get a car.

He’s full of it. The boy is cheap, and he hates parting with his money for just about everything, including a car, gas, and insurance.

Amelia: At least your heater still works.

I crank it up as soon as I read her message, thankful that the car is still running since it’s barely above freezing today .

Spring can’t come soon enough. I’m not a winter girl, no matter how cute some of the clothes are.

Zoey: Lemme know where you’re headed, and I’ll pick you up.

Me: Can I borrow your car for the day?

Zoey: Sure thing. I’m working at the bar later.

Brax: I’ll give you a ride home after work.

I love my family. Sure, they are a pain in the ass sometimes, but they are the absolute best. Doesn’t matter what kind of shit I get myself into, someone always has my back.

Me: Thanks, cousin.

Tate: Let us know when the tow is there.

Me: Will do.

I close the group chat and open my favorite app, reading through comments on my latest posts about my last job, which was a home office redo.

Each video reaches a bigger audience, and although I still have a small following, it’s no less exciting to see it grow .

I lose track of time on the side of the highway, trying to ignore the cars whizzing by me at such a fast speed that they could demolish my car with a mere swipe of the side.

Don’t think about it, Lulu. You’ll be fine. You’re not going to die today.

I glance up as the rumble of a diesel engine hits my ears. The tow truck pulls in front of me and slowly backs up, stopping a good ten feet away.

Put a smile on your face.

I’ve been told I have a solid resting bitch face, and I need to remind myself to smile when I’m hoping someone else doesn’t treat me like crap.

Not just any someone, but men. Women never care if I’m smiling or wearing a scowl, but any other facial expression seems to set most men on edge. Fragile egos.

I climb out of the car as the tow door opens, and a man steps out who looks big enough to block out the sun. “Ma’am,” he says in the deepest, gravelly voice.

I crane my neck upward, following his torso until I can get a good look at his face. “Sir,” I reply, always hating being called ma’am. I’m not old enough for that shit, but I’m more than willing to throw it back at them, hoping it rubs them the wrong way too.

The sunshine is almost blinding, and I have to shade my eyes with my hands to be able to focus on his face.

Damn. He’s a stunner. He looks like he hiked down the mountain this morning after chopping a pile of wood and started a fire by rubbing two sticks together to keep warm while he sipped on his black coffee.

My mouth instantly waters at the fullness of his lips, which are still visible even though his beard is thick and dark.

“Where’s the issue?”

I point toward the front passenger side, unable to move from behind my door. My eyes follow his movement, soaking in his hotness.

I hate winter clothes. I can’t tell what his body looks like underneath his heavy coat, and I sure as hell can’t see his ass because the coat is too long.

“That’s going to need a tow.”

I don’t dare mutter duh , but it’s on my lips. It’s why I called him. “Oh no,” I say, playing the stupid woman act, hoping it’ll get this entire ordeal over quicker.

“Why don’t you give me the keys and hop up in the truck to stay warm. No need for both of us to freeze to death.”

“Keys are in the car,” I tell him. “Lemme grab my things.” I bend over, reaching across the front seat to snag my purse and phone. I glance through the windshield, and our eyes lock.

The air rushes from my lungs as I soak in his piercing blue eyes. Is there anything about this man that isn’t good? Maybe he has nasty teeth, and it’ll instantly ruin any fantasy I’m building with him in my mind.

“Act normal,” I tell myself as I pull my upper body out of my car. “Don’t embarrass yourself, Lulu.”

I keep my eyes forward, not looking over at him as I start to walk toward the passenger side of the tow truck. I’m doing my best to walk and not fall in the snow when I hear the man yell, “Watch out.”

Suddenly, I’m tumbling into the snow with a heavy weight on top of me and the loudest crash I’d ever heard in my life ringing in my ears.

When I come to a stop, I’m on my back and looking up into the eyes of the hot, burly guy. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes searching mine as he breathes heavily, panic written all over his face.

“What happened?” I whisper, unable to speak any louder with the weight of his body crushing me, but I’m not about to complain. This is more action than I’ve had in months.

Our mouths are a few inches apart, so close I can feel his warm, minty breath against my face. “A car hit yours.”

I glance to the side where my car is—or, I should say, was. “Fuck,” I groan, slamming my head back into the snow, and squeeze my eyes shut.

If my day was bad before, it just got worse.

“Are you hurt?” the burly tow truck driver asks me again .

“I don’t think so.” But that doesn’t mean tomorrow I won’t feel the tumble I’ve just taken against my will deep down in my muscles.

“Fuck. That was close,” he mutters.

Then it hits me. I was standing right where the car must’ve sideswiped mine, missing his tow truck, but sending my car off into the woods on the side of the highway.

“You saved me,” I breathe, my fingers touching his jeans near his ass somewhere.

“I couldn’t let you die.”

“You could’ve,” I argue.

This handsome man stares down at me and, with a straight face, says, “Darlin’, what kind of man would I be if I let you die right in front of my eyes if I could save your life?”

“One who had an overwhelming sense of self-preservation,” I tell him.

Would I have done the same? I’m a good person, but I don’t know if I could literally jump toward a moving car to save a stranger, even a hot one.

He smirks at my statement as he pushes himself off me and then holds out a hand to me.

I don’t hesitate in taking his hand and being pulled up from the ground like I weigh nothing.

God, I love strong men. Smart is a bonus, but strong…that gets my motor running. Maybe that will change as I get older, but for right now, it is high up th ere on the list of important qualities I want in a man. Is it stupid? Probably, but I don’t give a crap.

When my eyes move to where my car used to be, I suck in a breath as the realization crashes over me.

A minute earlier and I would’ve been bending over, half inside, half outside, to grab my purse.

A few minutes before that and I would’ve been completely inside, waiting for the lumberjack tow truck driver to get here.

“Don’t worry,” the guy says at my side, “I have a dashcam. We’ll find out who that asshole was.”

I hadn’t even realized the person never stopped after demolishing my car like he meant to do it. “Damn,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Why would they leave?”

“A bunch of reasons. Maybe they were drunk or had an outstanding warrant.”

“Asshole,” I whisper and turn my gaze toward Mr. Burly. “Not you. Them.” I fling my arm out toward the pieces of my car that stayed where the entire thing used to be.

He reaches into his pocket, fishing out his phone. “That they are, darlin’. I’ll call this in.”

“Call it in?” I ask, totally missing that he said darlin’. Any other time, those words would’ve made my belly flutter, but right now, I am knee-deep in shock to feel much of anything.

“The police.”

I nod as he lifts the phone to his ear. “Right,” I mutter, and I am happy at least one of us is thinking clearly.

I turn my body, staring out across the highway, and watch the cars move past in a blur.

I’ve never been that close to dying before.

If he hadn’t tackled me, I wouldn’t be breathing right now.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, and that is the scariest part of it.

One minute, you’re here, and the next…you’re not.

“They’re on the way.”

“Thanks,” I say, my voice soft compared to the buzz of the traffic.

The man touches my back so gently, I almost don’t feel it. “Why don’t we wait in the truck. It’s not safe to stand here.”

I can’t argue with him. His point was proven a few minutes ago. “Okay,” I say, sounding more like a zombie than myself.

My feet move on their own, trusting this man with every fiber of my being. He guides me toward the passenger door of his giant tow truck, which looks more like a tank compared to my cute little sports car.

“Up you go,” he says after opening the door for me and moving his hand from my back to my arm. “You’ll be safer in here.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, grabbing the bar inside the truck to haul myself up. I’m not short, but this truck makes me feel dainty and little.

As soon as I’m situated, staring straight ahead, he closes the door and walks around the truck, talking to himself.

As much as this is a pain for me, I’m sure he didn’t have this on his bingo card today. What was supposed to be a simple job has now made him into a witness to a crime.

“I called my partner to tow your car out of the woods,” he says as he settles into the seat next to me. “His truck is built better for going off-road.”

“Thanks,” I say again, but I don’t think I can say it enough. There’s so much to thank him for, specifically me still being alive.

“You wet?” he asks.

I snap my head to the side, and my eyes widen. “What?”

“Are you wet?” he asks again.

I blink a few times in even more shock than I was when I almost died. “Excuse me?” I finally ask.

“From the snow,” he explains, looking at me like I have three eyes.

“Oh,” I whisper, feeling like an idiot. “Yes.” I’ve been in such shock, I didn’t even realize my entire backside is covered in snow. It didn’t begin to melt until I climbed into the warmth of his truck. “I’m sorry about your seat.”

“Darlin’, that seat’s been through more than a little water.” He smiles at me as he reaches for the knob to adjust the temperature. “It’s seen some things. ”

I grimace, but I don’t ask him what some things are because I don’t want to know. I lift my hands toward the vents, closing my eyes as the heat moves over my skin.

“I’ll handle the cops when they get here.”

“Okay.”

“Hey,” he says in a firm voice, “Look at me.”

I swing my gaze his way because something about his tone makes it impossible for me not to.

“You are safe. It’s all going to be okay.”

I may be okay, but based on the hunk of metal I saw near the woods, my car is not. I guess I’ll be spending the weekend car shopping because I have to be able to get to my client meetings. “I know.”

He lifts an eyebrow above his beautiful blue eyes. “Do you?”

I nod. “I almost just died, but I’m alive.”

“Yes,” he says back, smiling.

“I’ll snap out of it,” I promise him.

“You don’t need to snap out of it but settle into it. Realize you got lucky, but don’t take too long.”

“I’ve settled into it. I was just thinking about having to go look at new cars.” I skip over the bit about getting lucky. I wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t been there. I’d be just as mangled as my car.

“Good,” he says.

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “When is car shopping good? It’s a nightmare. I’d rather stick toothpicks under my fingernails than talk to a car salesman.”

He barks out a laugh. “Your words are colorful.”

“Do you like car shopping?”

His headshake is immediate. “Lucky for me, my stepdad is a car salesman. I call him, and he makes it happen without all the bullshit.”

“Can he make it happen for me too?” I ask, wishing the guy could work more miracles in my life, like sparing me from the wheeling and dealing I hate so much. It always feels like a scam to rip people off.

“Sure,” he says, surprising me.

I take a moment to finally look over his features and study his face. The last so many minutes have been a whirlwind of excitement that I don’t want to repeat anytime soon.

The city lumberjack is more handsome than I first noticed.

Maybe it’s because of everything that just happened, but his eyes are even more stunning than they were outside.

His beard is thicker than I thought but isn’t unruly.

The man spends time on it to make it look good.

His lips are full and lush, made to spend hours kissing someone.

“Sure?” I ask, wondering if I heard him wrong.

He nods, giving me a glimpse of his straight white teeth. “Randall is always looking for business.”

“I already owe you so much for saving my life, but I’m going to owe you even more if you make car-buying painless. ”

“You owe me nothing, darlin’. I was in the right place at the right time.”

It feels like it is more than that. I’m not sure many people would put their own lives at risk to save a stranger, but he did it without a second thought.

“Cop’s here,” he says, reaching for his door handle. “Stay put. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time in my life, I think a man finally does.