Page 3 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)
He tosses the empty jug into the back of his truck and then leans against the tailgate. Surprisingly, he seems vaguely interested, so I keep talking.
“From what I’ve read, it’s subconsciously intentional on my part,” I say, wiping a strand of hair out of my face. “I choose to have relationships that I know won’t work out because it’s my comfort zone—which is odd because there’s nothing comfortable about it.”
I tug on the sides of my shorts—shorts that end at a spot my grandmother would’ve said is highly inappropriate for public consumption. Shorts that Grandma would’ve also said are inappropriate for this time of year. Not the proper attire for Indiana in the fall.
He keeps his gaze glued to my face as if he’s oblivious to the length of my bottoms.
“Come to think of it,” I say, “you stopping to help me is the most romantic thing anyone has done for me in a long time.”
“Don’t get the wrong impression.” He shoves off the truck as if he can’t possibly stand still a moment longer. “There’s an easy solution to your problem, you know.”
“My problem?”
He stops just out of reach. The green in his eyes hosts a spattering of gold flecks as he gazes down, deciding what to say.
Energy crackles between us. My heart pounds. I don’t know this man, which is not lost on me. Still, I don’t move or feel compelled to put distance between us.
“Stop giving your time to unworthy men,” he says, his voice softer. “Don’t entertain clowns, and you won’t have to go to the circus.”
I rock back on my heels.
What did he say?
Is a man being logical?
Did I just fall in love?
“Car repair, romance, and inspiration? You could charge big money for this,” I say, smiling.
He dips his chin and turns away, heading back to my car. As soon as he’s a step away, my entire body sags. Oof .
My palms sweat around my brush and phone. He runs his tongue around the inside of his cheek as I approach him at my car door.
“So you’re headed into Peachwood Falls,” he says, redirecting the conversation. “What for?”
“I’m staying at The Ridges tonight. I start a new job this weekend, and I’m making a pit stop before I go on tomorrow.”
“I hope you get directions from someone besides Chris.”
Laughter topples from my lips. I think he wants to laugh, too—but he doesn’t.
“Peachwood has a bar that moonlights as a restaurant when the sun is up,” he says. “It’s across the street from The Ridges. So if you’re hungry, make sure you get a sandwich before it closes because there aren’t any other options until dawn.”
Is he serious right now?
His grin grows a smidgen at what must be the shock on my face.
“Relax,” he says. “There are big box stores on the highway a little ways out of town. They have everything.” He pauses. “Grab some pepper spray while you’re there.”
“Pepper spray?”
“Someone will take that hairbrush from you before you even swing it,” he says, nodding at my hand.
How did he know I was going to use this as a weapon?
My heart flutters at his consideration. “Be careful. That almost sounds like you care.”
“I don’t.” He nods toward my car. “Now go ahead and give it a try. Let’s see if it starts up.”
I climb into the car and press the brake. My finger touches the ignition button, and my car comes to life. No steam .
“So you do know what you’re doing,” I tease.
He flashes me the tiniest of smiles.
“Get the hell out of here,” he says, swatting a lightning bug as it flies in front of his face. “I’ll wait and make sure you get turned around. Then call the rental company and force them to figure out your car. I can’t believe they let you drive it off the lot like that.”
I slip off his jacket. “Got it. But one more thing. I don’t know how to get back to Peachwood Falls. I can ask Chris, but he’ll tell me to go straight, and that’s apparently not the way.”
“Go back out the way you came,” he says, taking his jacket and ensuring our fingers don’t touch. “Take a right onto the highway and go about eight, ten miles. You’ll see the exit.”
“Then why did Chris have me come down here?”
He shrugs. “He’s your friend. You tell me.”
“Well—”
“I was kidding. I don’t give a shit.” He smirks again and taps the top of my car. “Buckle up and get out of here. Watch for deer. They jump like hell this time of year.”
“Thank you. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stopped.”
He bats a hand through the air like it’s no big deal. Also like this conversation is over .
The last dark cloud clears, displaying a remarkable sunset. The sun hovers above the tree line, and the sky glows a beautiful color of oranges and reds. Without any noise from nearby towns, everything looks so peaceful and calm … until he revs his engine.
I roll my eyes and close the door. I try to rev my engine too, but I don’t think he can hear it over the roar of his truck. I’m also not entirely sure I’m doing it right.
It takes me five moves to turn my car around the narrow stretch of road. On the third attempt, I nearly slip off the dirt and into a ditch. By the fourth one, he’s yelling at me and waving his hands like he’s landing an airplane.
It doesn’t help. I yell back that I don’t work well under pressure, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hear that either.
Once I’m facing the right way, he honks his horn twice and then barrels in the opposite direction as if he can’t get away fast enough.
I’m left sitting in the middle of two cornfields, wondering what in the hell just happened.
I broke down and got rescued by a hot stranger.
A grin settles on my face as I hit the gas.
Not a bad start to my stint in Indiana.
Not a bad start at all.