Chapter 28
Cody had always loved his cars fast and his horses faster, but today, neither seemed to be on his side. His prized Ferrari, gleaming in a shade of deep red, was now parked on the side of a dusty country road with smoke curling lazily from under the hood.
The damn car was his prized possession, his pride and joy. And somehow, the lazy Texas backroad he’d decided to take, pushing the Ferrari to its limits, seemed to have killed it.
Cody sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the smoking hood. He’d barely eased off the high of watching his newest racehorse come in second place at the track. Second wasn’t bad, not by a long shot, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He’d been gunning for first, for the prestige, the trophy, and, sure, the prize money. Not that he needed it—he was a Burnett, after all. Money wasn’t an issue. But he loved the thrill of a smart investment paying off, the satisfaction of proving he’d made the right call.
Now, the high of the racetrack was fading fast, replaced by the sharp sting of disappointment and the frustrating realization that his beloved Ferrari was stranded on a sunbaked road in the middle of nowhere.
With no cell service and nothing but miles of empty road stretching out before him, Caleb was about as stranded as a man could get.
The irony wasn’t lost on him—his state-of-the-art Ferrari, a machine built for speed and luxury, was now little more than an expensive roadblock. He sighed, leaning against the car’s sleek frame, the scorching Texas sun doing nothing to improve his mood.
Stranded. Alone. And completely out of options.
“Great,” Cody muttered, glaring at the plume of steam wafting from the engine. He’d taken a detour to clear his head, but now all he had was a dead car and no cell signal.
He crossed his arms and stared down the deserted stretch of road. The low sun cast a golden glow over the landscape. If no one came by, he could be here all night.
“This is what I get for trying to ‘enjoy the drive,’” he grumbled, kicking at a pebble.
He glanced at his phone, the bars mocking him with their nonexistent signal.
Just as he started pacing, trying to figure out how to get back to civilization, a beat-up old pickup truck rumbled down the road. Cody waved his arms, feeling equal parts hopeful and annoyed.
The truck slowed and stopped, and out stepped a woman in cut-off jeans, boots, and a tank top that read, Not All Who Wander Are Lost. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her skeptical green eyes locked on him like he was a puzzle she didn’t have time to solve.
“You lost?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“No, my car’s just enjoying a dramatic meltdown,” Cody replied, gesturing to the Ferrari. He offered his most charming smile, the one that usually worked wonders on women.
The woman was beautiful in a natural, effortless way that caught him off guard. She wasn’t one of those overly polished types with two inches of makeup that melted off at the first touch. No, her beauty was all her own—gorgeous alabaster skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight, long lashes that framed sharp, emerald-green eyes, and an expression that practically dared him to keep up with her sharp wit.
And that smartass attitude of hers? It only added to the allure, a perfect match to the confidence she carried like a second skin. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him, and somehow that made her even more magnetic.
She glanced at the car, unimpressed. “Cute. Looks like a toaster that got too big for its britches.”
Cody blinked. “A toaster?”
She shrugged, her lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. “Yeah. All shiny, but useless when it’s broken.”
She’d called his prized Ferrari—a car he’d lovingly maintained, polished to perfection, and considered a masterpiece of engineering—a toaster .
A toaster .
“What the hell?” Cody muttered under his breath, staring at the woman in front of him as if she’d just insulted his entire existence.
She stood there, one hand on her hip, the other resting casually against the door of her beat-up old truck, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. Her messy bun and scuffed boots screamed practicality, a sharp contrast to his perfectly tailored shirt and the shiny red beast of a car currently smoking behind him.
“Excuse me,” he said, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice. “Did you just call my Ferrari—a precision-engineered masterpiece—a toaster ?”
She shrugged, her lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. “Yup. A shiny, overpriced toaster. And from the looks of it, not even a good one. Pretty sure my grandma’s toaster has fewer issues than that thing.”
Cody opened his mouth, then closed it, utterly stunned. He’d dealt with all kinds of people in his life—fans of his horses, admirers of his cars, women who usually swooned at his charm—but this... this was new.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath as he pointed toward the car. “That ‘toaster’ is a Ferrari. A one-of-a-kind piece of art. And it does not have issues.”
“Oh, sure,” she said, nodding solemnly as her gaze flicked to the steam rising from under the hood. “It looks like it’s working perfectly. I guess you won’t be needing me.”
Cody blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Her grin widened. “A little, yeah.”
Cody opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a sudden flurry of feathers and squawking. Out of nowhere, a chicken darted across the road, heading straight for him.
“What the—” Cody yelped, jumping back as the bird flapped wildly at his legs.
“Oh, carp!” the woman exclaimed, running toward the chicken that had flown out of the old truck. “Poppy, stop terrorizing strangers!”
“Poppy?” Cody asked, watching in disbelief as the woman expertly scooped up the squawking bird and cradled it in her arms like it was a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“She’s got... opinions,” the woman explained, stroking the chicken’s head to calm it down. “She’s my grandmother’s prized bird.”
Cody stared at her, completely stunned. The ladies’ man who always had the perfect line found himself utterly speechless.
“You all right there, city boy?” she teased, raising a brow as she tucked Poppy under one arm.
He blinked, snapping himself out of it. “I’m no city boy. I’ve raised chickens before, but…I just—do you always carry chickens around like that?”
“Only when they’re trying to murder strangers in expensive cars,” she replied, her tone deadpan.
Cody let out a laugh, the sound surprising even himself. “Well, I’ve officially seen it all.”
“Good. Now, do you need a ride, or are you planning to wait for a tow truck that won’t show up out here?”
Cody hesitated, his pride warring with his gratitude. Finally, he nodded. “I could use a ride.”
“Great,” she said, turning toward the truck. “I’m Alexis, by the way. And you owe me a favor for rescuing you and your shiny toaster from certain doom.”
“Cody Burnett,” he replied, following her to the truck. “And I think I owe you more than a favor. You just saved my day.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Alexis said, her grin widening as she opened the passenger door of her beat-up truck. “I’ve got rules. No complaints about the music. No touching Poppy—she doesn’t like to be handled by amateurs. And don’t even think about touching me unless you’re looking to lose a hand.”
Cody chuckled, the sound rolling out despite the ridiculousness of his situation. He slid into the passenger seat, the cracked leather warm from the Texas sun, and glanced over at her as she climbed in behind the wheel, tucking the feisty chicken securely in her lap.
For the first time in a long time, Cody felt completely off balance—and oddly, he liked it. Alexis was unlike any woman he’d ever met.
There was no pretense about her, no attempt to impress him with charm or flattery. She didn’t even seem fazed by who he was or the car that usually turned heads everywhere he went. She was... refreshing.
And nothing like those big-haired city girls who seemed more interested in his last name or his bank account than the man behind it.
“She’s... different,” he muttered to himself, his gaze flicking over to Alexis as she fiddled with the radio, her brow furrowed in concentration.
The truck lurched forward with a cough, and Cody braced himself against the dashboard, shaking his head with a smirk.
“Buckle up, city boy,” Alexis said, flashing him a quick grin. “This isn’t your fancy sports car, but it’ll get you where you need to go. Eventually.”
Cody laughed again, the sound surprising even him. Alexis might have thrown him completely off his game, but something about her already had him hooked.