Page 3 of Tennessee Whiskey

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He stares at me for a long moment. I feel his eyes scorching every inch of my skin as they travel over my face. The intensity in his gaze is unnerving, like he’s trying to see deep inside me to my soul.

“I just want to make sure you get home okay,” his eyes seem to soften, and he suddenly looks more approachable, less brooding.

I still don’t trust him for a minute.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” I don’t know why I ask it. It’s obvious he’s an out-of-towner. Everybody knows everybody around here, so the fact that I’ve never seen the guy lets me know with absolute certainty that he’s not from around here.

And I’d certainly remember if I’d ever seen anyone like him before. He looks like one of those guys you see on the movies or the covers of magazines. His clothes look perfectly tailored to him and probably cost more than my parent’s monthly mortgage.

His gaze never falters from me, but his lips finally quirk up in the semblance of a smile. Or perhaps it’s more of a smirk.

“Not yet,” he says by way of answer.

I frown at him, tilting my head to the side as I consider his odd answer. His eyes are still holding mine, but I’m broken from the golden trance of them when I hear the whooshing of a vehicle coming around the corner.

I look up just as I see Jake’s brand-new truck rounding the corner. I see the stranger’s gaze following mine to the truck, and his frown deepens as it slows when Jake obviously notices my truck sitting on the side of the road.

I feel an odd mixture of relief and disappointment at the appearance of a friendly face who can help me. I don’t really know where the disappointment is coming from because there’s no way in hell I was ever going to get into a car with this man I don’t even know. My childhood friend showing up couldn’t have been better timing.

“Daisy!” Jake rolls down his window and yells at me with his boyish grin.

“Daisy,” I hear the dark-haired man repeat my name thoughtfully as if he’s trying it out for size. I feel his stare on me, but I ignore him and the heat that flushes my face as I call back to Jake, “Hey, Jake!”

“The old girl crap out on you again?” Jake asks me knowingly. Yeah, he’d picked me up more than once when my truck wouldn’t start.

“Yeah,” I nod as I open the door of my truck. The stranger steps back just in time to avoid the swing of my truck door smacking him as I hop out.

I can feel him scowling again, but I continue to ignore him. I’m not purposefully trying to be rude, but Mr. Grouchy Pants has done nothing but stare and glower at me since I met him, and I’m already over it.

I run over to Jake’s truck and hop into the passenger side. I see my sandy-haired friend looking at the dark-haired man curiously.

“Who’s that?” he asks, making no move to hide his interest in the stranger.

I shrug, not even glancing back at whatever-his-name-is. I feel a pang when I realize I don’t even know his name, but then I realize it’s probably for the best. He’s just someone passing through, and I’ll surely never see him again.

“Just someone who stopped to see what was going on.”

Jake frowns. “Good thing I showed up when I did then. You don’t need to be taking rides from strangers, Daisy,” he warns.

“I know,” I agree with him. “I wasn’t going to.”

“I don’t think he would have hurt me, though,” I can’t help adding.

Jake looks at me quizzically, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything about my odd comment. Instead, he just nods to the dark-haired guy before he pulls away from the curb and starts off down the road.

I chance a glance in the sideview mirror back at the man still standing by my truck on the side of the road. His jaw is clenched, his eyes boring into us as we drive away, his hands fisted at his sides.

I feel a shiver run up my spine despite the summer heat.

It’s definitely a good thing Jake came along when he did.


Tags: Emma Bray Romance