She stops with a hand on the door handle to her truck and looks back at me as I just sit there watching her. I think I might be freaking her out, but I just want to make sure she gets in her vehicle okay and that the piece of shit starts.
It looks dubious at best.
I make a motion at her through my windshield, urging her to go on, and her pretty little lips turn down into a scowl, obviously put off at a complete stranger like me ordering her around. I feel my lips twitch. She’s a firecracker. In every way, from her sassy little attitude to that captivating mane of red hair.
I watch patiently as she yanks on the door of the truck and then climbs up into the vehicle that looks way too big for a cute little thing like her.
If she were mine, I’d have her driving a sleek little Mercedes that would complement her but still provide plenty of safety.
She’d be wearing designer labels that would do her figure justice. I’d cover her with aquamarine diamonds that would only bring out the blue of her eyes.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel with the clarity of the images my mind conjures.
I don’t know anything about this girl, but she looks like she should be mine.
I frown as I hear the turning of her truck’s engine before it craps out. The fucker won’t start. Just as I suspected. I honestly don’t know how she’d driven it here in the first place. The piece of junk looks like it was on its last leg ten years ago.
I put my car into drive and pull up right beside her before putting it back in park. The window to the truck is rolled down. If I had to guess, I’d bet my last million it doesn’t have working air conditioning in it. She eyes me suspiciously as I roll down the passenger side window before nodding to the seat next to me, “Get in,” I tell her.
She stares at me from the inside of the truck before she scoffs, “Uh, yeah, no way, buddy.”
* * *
Daisy
I watch his jaw tense as I tell him there’s no way I’m getting into his car with him. He might be the most breathtaking man I’ve ever seen, but I don’t know hide nor hair about him, and even the devil was supposedly God’s most beautiful angel—that’s what my gran says anyway.
His hair is dark and carelessly tousled in a stylish way. His arms look muscular beneath the dark button-up shirt he’s wearing, the sleeves rolled-up to reveal strong forearms and a few buttons undone to reveal the top of his chest.
My heart had thumped in my chest when he’d first spoken to me so moodily. A strange warmth had filled my body at the deep timbre of his voice, but it had quickly been tempered with annoyance at his sharp tone, ordering me about as if I were a child.
Perhaps the most arresting thing about him, though, is his golden eyes. They’re not brown, and they’re not exactly amber. They’re the most unique hue I’ve ever seen—in eyes anyway. They glimmer at me beneath his dark brows now as he frowns at me.
I think all the man knows how to do is glower and frown.
And order me around.
And treat me like I’m stupid for caring about the sanctity of animal life.
He curses, “I can’t very well leave you here stranded.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I retort back at him through our windows. “I’ll be fine.”
He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head to glance out his sideview mirror before he suddenly slams his car into gear and shoots up in front of my truck, pulling his car into park off the side of the road in front of me.
I’m glued to the spot in shock as I watch the driver’s side door open and see him step from the fancy vehicle with a long unfolding of limbs.
I gulp as he slams the door of his car shut and starts stalking over toward where I sit in my truck. My piece of crap truck that would choose today of all days to act up on me. I shouldn’t have turned it off when I’d stopped to help the turtle cross the road. I should have just left it idling. I knew better. I knew that sometimes my ornery truck refused to start. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
I suddenly realize the danger of my situation. I’m stranded on the side of the road with a total stranger. My dumb self forgot to grab my cell phone before I left the house, something that I do frequently. I never really worry about it, though, when I’m just going to see my gran. She’s about a seven-minute drive from where I live with my parents.
I consider jumping out of my truck and running. Maybe that would be the sensible thing to do, but I’m too stubborn and have too much pride to run. If the devil is coming for me, I’ll meet him head on, and I sure as hell won’t go down without a fight.
I sit up straighter in my seat and glare at the man defiantly as he finally reaches my truck.
He leans into my truck with an arm on the top of the window, his golden eyes boring into mine, seeming to burn me with their heat at such close range.
My breath catches in my throat despite myself. Instead of feeling fear, though, as I probably should, I feel this keen sense of excitement.