Shit. I don’t want to stop.
The weatheronly getting worse, but I don’t have it in me to leave someone stranded like this. Against everything within that’s screaming for me to keep going, I stop and pull over as far as I safely can. I replace my gloves and zip up my jacket before getting out. I can’t see well enough to make out the man or his truck, but I can tell I'm walking in the right direction. As soon as I'm close enough, I tap him on the shoulder “Do you need help?”
He jumps when I touch him. When he turns around and stares down at me, I realize it’s the lumberjack jerk from earlier.
Great, just my luck.
Chapter Two
Maddox
As if this day couldn’t get any worse. This little goodie-two-shoes is in my face once again, actually thinking she can help. I’m already annoyed enough with my truck breaking down in this ridiculous storm, and I don’t need her in the way. What could she do to help anyway? She’d have to get a stool to even see under the hood.
I need to get rid of her.
“I’m fine, princess. Get home before you get stranded too.”
“Princess?”
I can’t help but smile at her outburst.
“Look, I get that you have this macho man persona that you don’t want to break, but being rude to someone who’s offering help isn’t the smartest idea.” She looks up at me with determination and rests her hands on her hips. I chuckle again before answering.
“Go home. I will call a tow truck.”
"The snow is falling harder than before. It took me twenty minutes to get here from the store when it usually takes about five who knows if they'd even come out right now. Just swallow your pride, Hulk, and let me take you home."
“I live deep in the mountains. Can your little truck make it up there with all this snow?” I can’t help but challenge her. She’s in way over her head with that sassy attitude of hers, and there’s no way I'm about to go out of her way to help me. It’s dangerous out here.
“I assure you, we’ll make it. My little truck has all the necessary amenities for weather like this. Four-wheel drive. Everything.”
I can’t decide whether to laugh or be annoyed by her. I don’t want to be an inconvenience or depend on anyone, but at the same time I want to be home, and she’s right about a tow. Jerry, the owner, would never get out in this crap and I’m not too keen on the idea of spending a night, or more, in my truck with the possibility of freezing to death. I look her over as she crosses her arms over her chest, knowing she’s right. The last thing I want is to satisfy her, but I’m also in need of her help. Dammit.
“Fine. Let me grab my bags. But I’m driving. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it through the mountains with the visibility the way it is.” Before she has time to argue, I turn my back to her to grab my bags from the truck. I can faintly hear her growl, which I find cute.
Shaking my head at my adolescent thoughts, I slam the door shut and lock. I turn around and walk toward her truck. When I approach, she's standing with the door open. Her annoyance is apparent, and it slightly makes me happy. I'm not trying to make friends out here. I want to get home.
“Could you speed it up, please? The snow is coming down.” She moves out of the way for me to throw my bags in the back seat. Not even looking at me, she gets into the passenger side and slams the door closed. I make my way around to the driver side and attempt to get in, growling when my leg hits the steering wheel. She tries to stifle a laugh but fails miserably. I move the seat back as far as it will go and lift the steering wheel so I can get in. Without saying a word I put the truck into drive and head home.
I can tell she's having a hard time with the silence, but I'm in no mood for talking. Hoping it will help to keep her quiet, I turn on the radio. She quickly turns the volume down and glares at me. I refuse to look at her, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her sit back and cross her arms. She stares out of the window, taking the hint.
It doesn’t last long though. After thirty minutes of sweet silence, she turns to me and starts in with the questions. I can tell she's trying to change tactics by retracting back to her friendly, goody-two-shoes attitude, but I honestly preferred the snarky version.
“So, can I ask your name?”
“Is it necessary for you to know?”
“Considering you’re driving my truck, I think it is. Just want to know what to tell the police if you decide to kidnap me or something.”
I give her a side glance, then roll my eyes before responding. “Maddox. And I already know you’re Taylor.”
“How?” she asks.
“Your name tag,” I say.
We sit in silence for a while.
“So, do you know what’s wrong with your truck?”