Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
He rounded the hood of his Bronco, all six feet plus of long, lean gorgeousness. If she had the recipe for the perfect man, Owen Hardesty, a.k.a. Hunky McHunk, would be the result. (Torture on the rack wouldn’t make her divulge her nickname for him.) Physically, for sure, because he was that gorgeously delicious in a rough-hewn sort of way. Personality-wise, he could work on losing the grump. He was perfectly fine with other people, not particularly chatty, but he had friends and people seemed to like him. But with her? He was surly, rude, and had made a bad habit of bossing her around.
Gratitude loosened her tongue. “Owen, oh my god. I’m so glad to see you. Thank you so, so much for stopping.” He’d shown up when she was in desperate need of help. He probably hadn’t realized it was her, but still. She’d hug him if she didn’t think he’d recoil in horror.
His scowl, the habitual frown he wore whenever he had to deal with her, was clearly visible in the wash of the Bronco’s headlights.
He might treat her like she was an Ebola carrier, but that hadn’t stopped her stupid heart from developing the tiniest of crushes on him. For the past several months she’d been trying to squelch that crush, to stomp out the feelings until they died. She didn’t need the blow to her self-confidence by the man she had a thing for actively disliking her.
She’d even posted a profile on a popular dating app and gone on several dates with the idea that finding a romantic partner would help her kill the crush. And, if she was lucky, one of those dates would result in a relationship that would lead somewhere .
Good on him though for pulling over for a person in need on the side of the road.
He strode toward her, taking her hand to pull her in front of the Bronco where the headlights shone brightly.
Dark brows lowered over his sharp eyes as he glared at her, but his gravelly voice lacked its usual bossiness. “You okay, princess?”
“ Um, yeah.” His gentleness combined with her skyrocketing pulse was disconcerting. “Except for being stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire, I’m okay. I walked all the way to the curve trying to get cell service. I had one measly bar for about a minute, but it wasn’t enough to call for roadside service.”
“ What the hell? You walked along the road in the dark? Are you trying to get yourself run over? Or kidnapped?”
Annnd he was back.
That. Exactly that was why Owen could light a match to her temper like no one else. Sure, the tiny crush was a true thing, but so was the fact he managed to put her back up with apparently no effort at all.
It also didn’t help that he’d never touched her before, and now that he was holding her hand, she was experiencing Owen overload.
She might’ve been able to reestablish her equilibrium except for that one thing.
His calloused hand enveloped hers with a warmth that sent a surge of heat over her skin like a shield against the cold wind blowing ahead of the storm. Very nice indeed, until he suddenly seemed aware they were touching and dropped her hand, shoving his into the slit pockets of his jacket.
Right. Ebola carrier.
If she knew where in her car her hand sanitizer had been stowed, she’d offer him a squirt. He angled his head and she realized his rant had held a question.
He’d asked if she was trying to get herself run over. Of course, she was devoid of intelligence and common sense and couldn’t keep herself safe .
Self-preservation had her tone coming out sharper than she intended. “Listen up, pal.” She stepped back and his scowl deepened. Yet, with all that, she missed his warmth. “First off? I had my phone flashlight on and was walking along the turnout as far from the road as I could precisely because I didn’t want to get run over.
“ Second? I can’t deal with this tire myself, and need to call a tow truck, otherwise I’ll have to spend the night in my car and it’s cold and I really don’t want to spend the night in my car. Calling a tow truck requires cell service, so yeah, I walked along the turnout.
“ And third? I’m not an idiot, and maybe you should remember that.”
“ Got it. Give me your keys.”
Got it. Give me your keys? That’s it?
No wonder the man was single. At least she thought he was single, but what did she know? Maybe he had a grumpy girlfriend to complement his grumpy self.
“ Keeley, would you please give me your keys?” she muttered as she fished her keys from the back pocket of her jeans and handed them over. She shivered as the wind picked up, flakes of snow beginning to swirl in the wash of the headlights.
“ Why aren’t you wearing a coat?” Of course, he wore one of those heavy wool Pendletons that made him look like he could fell tall trees with a few strokes of an axe.
“ I have a coat. It’s in my car, but I’m not sure where. I’m fine.” He made her feel like she’d failed an IQ test.
Shaking his head, he rounded the hood of his Bronco to open the front passenger door. Reaching in, he pulled out a heavyweight hoodie and thrust it at her. “Wear this.” He motioned to the seat. “Stay here while I change the tire.”
“ Umm—” He was already stalking toward the CRV.
Keeley pulled the sweatshirt over her head and tried to ignore the intoxicating scent of him. She wondered if the sweatshirt had been in front of a heater vent because it felt fabulously warm. The weight and thickness made her feel safe and secure, which was dumb. It was only a freakin’ sweatshirt.
Telling herself to suck it up buttercup, she scrambled after him, catching up as he crouched to examine the tire.
“ I told you to stay in the Bronco. The keys are in the center console. Push the start button to turn it on to run the heater.”
He rose to his feet and she had to step back. Usually when she saw him, he was behind the bar at his place, Easy Money. This close up he seemed taller.
She cleared her throat. “You won’t be able to change the tire.”
He sent her a look that made her roll her eyes and moved around her to open the back hatch. She couldn’t blame him for the stunned expression. “What the hell, princess?”
“ Keeley, Owen. My name is Keeley. ”
“ Princess works for me.”
“ I’m hardly a princess,” she muttered. It irritated her that he thought of her as spoiled and snobby, but he’d come to her rescue so she’d be nice, even if it killed her. “I’d have changed the tire myself if my car wasn’t packed as tightly as a can of biscuits.”
“ A can of biscuits?”
“ Yeah, a can of biscuits.” Was he laughing at her? There was a quality to his voice that made her suspicious. She waved her hand at the bins and boxes. “All this is from my classroom. If we unpack it to get to the spare, we’ll never get it back in because we’re not Yousef.”
He stared at her like he was trying to make sense of a foreign language. “Okay, I’ll ask. What the hell does that mean?”
“ It means that I had to clear out what had been my classroom because the regular teacher is coming back after spring break from her two-year maternity leave.” She glanced at the back of the car. It really was a lot of stuff.
“ Not that, the other thing.”
She replayed what she’d said in her head. “That we’re not Yousef? ”
He nodded.
“ Yousef is one of my best friends. He teaches, actually it’s now past tense, he taught sixth graders in the classroom next to mine. Well, I taught in the classroom next to his because he was there first and he’s still there. He’s a wizard with packing and got everything to fit, but if we pull stuff out, we’ll never get it back in like Yousef did.
“ We, as in me and Yousef, also went out tonight with friends. To our favorite cantina for adult beverages and tacos. It was kind of a going away party. For me. But I only had one small margarita and that was at least two hours before I got behind the wheel, in case you were wondering, because I don’t drink and drive.”
Owen looking at her like she was an alien from another planet had her snapping her mouth shut. He made her nervous, and when she was nervous she talked. A lot.
“ He your boyfriend?”
“ Who? Yousef?” At his slow nod, she said, “No. Of course not. I don’t have a boyfriend. At least, at the moment. Things could change.”
She thought his interest sharpened, like he’d been listening before but had shifted suddenly to hyper-focus. But he didn’t say anything more so she asked, “Is there space in the back of your Bronco to put some of my things? Dividing the load is the only way I can see to get to the spare tire.”
He was already shaking his head. “I’ve got equipment back there. We’ll leave your car here tonight. Come back for it in the morning.” He must’ve caught her look because he added, “It’ll be fine.”
A thought struck. “You were on your way down the mountain so you must’ve been going somewhere. I’m sorry.” As much as she loathed the idea, she felt compelled to make the suggestion. “If you want to take off to where you were going, you could make the call to request roadside service for me. I’ll wait with my car until they get here.” She flashed him a smile. “That is if I can keep the sweatshirt you loaned me so I don’t freeze. ”
She’d seen Owen pissed off plenty of times; he got especially pissed at the bar when guys were jerks to women. But that was nothing compared to the fire that ignited his eyes now. “What do you take me for? You think I’d leave you alone at night on the side of a mountain with a storm coming in? That’s not who I am.”
His vehemence surprised her. “We don’t really know each other, and I thought you might’ve been on your way to a date or something, and stopping to help me messed that up. Though it’s a little late for a date. But not for a hookup. I’m so sorry if that’s the case. Maybe she’s, or he’s, still waiting.”
“ Jesus Christ, the way your brain works. It’s like you’ve got a squirrel up there going off in a dozen directions.” He did the guy chin lift thing. “You like ticking things off in order, so let’s do that. One, I’m not gay. Got nothing against gays or anyone else, love is love and all that, but I’m not gay. If you think I’m gay, then you haven’t been paying attention.” She’d barely had a second to wonder what he meant before he went on, ticking his points off on long fingers. “Two, I was not going to meet a woman for a date or a hookup. And three, your mom called me after you texted her and asked if I’d look for you. That’s why I was driving down the mountain.”
“ She didn’t.” Keeley closed her eyes and breathed through her nose, which she’d read was a calming technique. It didn’t work. She opened her eyes. “I’m sorry. Mom loves you like a long-lost son, but that doesn’t give her the right to bother you, especially on what has to be a busy night at Easy Money.”
“ Your mom can call me for anything, any time she wants. It’s not a problem. What is a problem is us standing here in the cold. I want to get on the road and there’s not a chance I’m leaving you here alone.”
Over the years, Owen had avoided her, she knew he had, which limited their interactions. Keeley thought over the past few minutes he’d broken the record for the number of words spoken to her at one time .
With the current situation, he’d come to help her and he was right about the cold, so she’d cut him a break for being bossy. “Understood,” she said primly. “I don’t really want to be here by myself, but I’m still sorry to be a bother to you.”
He shook his head. “Get whatever you need from your car.”
She retrieved her purse and turned off the hazards. Owen handed over her keys. She locked her car and followed him to the Bronco. He turned the heater up and once she had her seatbelt secured, he steered it onto the highway.
She was safe. She leaned back in her seat and screwed her eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of emotion. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was an idiot to cry when she was safe. She hated that she cried so easily.
In with a deep breath, slowly exhale. She repeated the process, hoping to beat back the tears.
“ There a problem?”
He was too perceptive. He’d come to her rescue as a favor to her mom, but still he’d dropped everything to drive down the mountain. He’d saved her from a scary and uncomfortable night sleeping in her car, he’d given her his sweatshirt to wear, and he’d turned up the heater. She’d been feeling scared and alone, and now she felt safe and protected.
Altogether not what she needed to diminish the crush threatening to grow past the tiny stage.
She angled her head to surreptitiously wipe at her eyes and swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “No, no problem.”
Once she had herself under control, she stared into the darkness. Swirling snowflakes danced in the cone of light from the Bronco’s headlights. Owen turned on the windshield wipers.
“ Thank you for coming to find me. I didn’t want to spend the night in my car. I could’ve done it, but I’m a wimp, and I’d have been scared.”
“ Shit. ”
She gave a startled laugh. “That’s not the usual response when someone says thank you.”
“ It’s my response. You’re not a wimp. Most people would’ve been scared. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“ I’m not beating myself up.” His strong profile was silhouetted against the light from a gas station as they passed the outskirts of Sisters. “ You wouldn’t have been scared.”
“ I wouldn’t have been happy, but no, I wouldn’t have been scared. Women are more vulnerable than men. You have more reason to be scared.”
“ I’ll accept that. Regardless, you saved me from that and I’m grateful.”
“ Don’t want your gratitude.” The words were a surly grumble.
“ Well, you have it.” She gave his response some thought. “Do you like pie?”
He gave her another one of those all-encompassing looks that warmed her as much as the heated air pumping from the vents. “I like pie.”
“ Then I’ll bake you a pie.”
“ I told you I don’t want your gratitude.”
“ And I said you have it anyway. The pie isn’t like a payment that diminishes the gratitude, it’s simply a way to say thank you.”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Apple. I’m partial to apple pie.”
“ Good, then I’ll make you an apple pie.”
In minutes they were pulling into the long driveway that led past her parents’ house to the little cottage in the back where she lived.
In years past there’d been tall pines in the courtyard between the two structures, but those had been cleared so the trees ringing the property were far enough back that there was a defensible space in case of a wildfire.
Keeley’d moved into the cottage the year before so she could help with her dad. Since then, she’d been making the commute up and down the mountain to Sacramento. Moving home meant she could be part of her dad’s care team, and of real help to her mom, instead of the few hours she’d been able to spare on weekends.
Alzheimer’s sucked, and early-onset Alzheimer’s sucked even more. She and her mom were giving Bruce Montaigne the best life they could, given his diagnosis, but there were days that were simply exhausting. Knowing her dad’s condition would only worsen was like having a dark cloud forever looming overhead.
Her parents had built the cottage when Keeley was a teenager when her grandmother had been widowed. Now Keeley was living there. With its little kitchen, living room, and beautiful bedroom/bathroom suite, she had her own space while still being close enough to help with her dad.
Owen parked in front of her single-car garage. The back door of the main house opened as Keeley stepped out of the Bronco, Owen exiting on his side. Even wearing a long parka thrown over slim-fitting sweats, Abigail Montaigne always looked put together and beautiful.
“ Oh, Keeley, I’m so glad you’re safe.” She pulled her daughter into a tight hug.
“ I wasn’t in any danger, Mom. But I’m glad to be home. Thanks for sending Owen.”
Abby turned to Owen. Keeley felt a pang when Mister I’m grumpy and love my solitude Hardesty not only returned the embrace, he went so far as to lay his cheek on Abby’s head and hold on as snowflakes swirled around them. Who’d have thought the guy could give such good hugs?
Owen had become friends with Keeley’s parents when she’d been living in Sacramento. During the early stage of her dad’s disease, he would often spend afternoons at Easy Money, drinking the one glass of beer he allowed himself while hanging out with his buddy, Ted Alvarez, and a couple other guys. They’d called themselves the Devil Dogs, given they’d all been in the Marine Corps, including Owen.
“ Thank you for taking care of my girl, Owen. ”
“ Always.”
Always? Right. No point forgetting her mom’s request was what had sent Owen down the mountain looking for her.
The flicker of hope that his relief in finding her might’ve been some sort of reflection of romantic feelings were smothered by a heavy dose of reality.
See? Another step closer toward beating her tiny crush into submission.
***
Bzzzzz. Keeley groped on her nightstand, knocking her phone to the floor with a thud. It could stay there. She snuggled into her pillow. She loved her pillow. Nice, soft, fluffy. She started to drift again.
Bzzzzz. The Hey, you didn’t read your text reminder buzz. Yawning, she felt around on the floor until she found her phone, then dropped it again when the plugged-in charger cord pulled it out of her hand.
Picking it up, she managed to pull out the charger while simultaneously rolling out of bed onto the floor. Deciding she needed to open her eyes, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and squinted at the screen. “Unknown number.” Tapping and swiping, because apparently she couldn’t remember how to use her phone—god she needed coffee—she finally opened the message app.
Unknown Number: It’s Owen. Dealing with your car.
The events of the night before came crashing back, images of the wheel with its puddle of deflated rubber, desperately trying to get cell service, then Owen in all his broody gorgeousness stepping out of his Bronco, bringing with him the feeling that she was absolutely safe .
She rubbed her eyes. Her phone read seven a.m. Didn’t the man sleep? Trying to wake up, she tapped back a response.
Keeley: Oh! You don’t have to do that. I was going to call AAA and get a ride to meet the driver and have it towed to town.
She reread the text for grammar, considered adding a car emoji, but figured it would be wasted on Owen, then hit send. She added him to her contacts list.
McHunk: Got keys from Abby. I’ll deal with it.
Keeley: Okay, sure. That’s great. Thank you. Can you tell the tow truck driver to take it to Lou’s Tires and to let me know when it gets there?
She pulled her purse off her nightstand, located her card to take a picture of it, and added it to the text.
Keeley: Here’s my AAA information. Thank you, again. I was planning on taking care of it, but now I don’t have to. Thanks.
She’d waited for the three dots to show he was responding. Nada. Owen’s conversational brevity apparently carried over to texting.