Don’t Burn Bridges (Hazard Falls #3)

Chapter 1

What else could go wrong? Shylo Kellerman wasn't sure, but bad luck had been nipping at her heels her entire life.

Shoving the gearshift into Park, she turned off the ignition, yanked the hood-release lever, and then climbed out of the truck.

She pulled two rags from beneath the driver's seat and used them to protect her hand as she opened the hood and propped it up. A billowing cloud of scalding vapor surged skyward, forcing her to step back. She couldn’t wait until she had the money to buy a new truck. Maybe she’d get a fancy sports car too.

At least it was a pleasant day near the end of May.

White clouds drifted across the sky, but nothing suggested rain.

The temperature hovered around eighty degrees, and a gentle breeze made her lightweight navy capris, loose gray V-neck T-shirt, and Keds comfortable.

The truck's AC was one of the few things that still worked reliably.

She probably jinxed herself with that thought.

With a few minutes to kill, she grabbed her phone from the front seat and frowned at the screen. No cell service at all. She tried taking a few steps in each direction, but it didn’t help.

Well, wasn’t that the cherry on top of the shit show that was her life?

After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh. Who would she have called, anyway? No one. No close friends. Just a handful of acquaintances she’d kept at arm’s length. A half-brother—Troy—she avoided like a disease.

And the small, miserable town in West Virginia she’d come from? That place was in her rearview mirror for a reason.

When she left Brimley Flats last week, she’d sworn she was never going back.

Her cell phone only listed a few contacts—her mother, who passed away a few months ago, a private investigator Shylo had hired, her boss from the job she quit last week, and two coworkers who didn’t like her.

The feelings were mutual. She only had their numbers because they occasionally texted her to cover their shifts if they didn’t feel like working.

Shylo only ever agreed because she needed the extra money to save up and leave town faster.

To put the past behind her, she quickly deleted everyone but the P.I. She might need his services again.

Glancing around, she took in the surroundings.

There wasn't much to see beyond the trees lining both sides of the road.

Two miles back, farmland had given way to woodlands.

According to her research on Google Maps, it would open again in another three-and-a-half miles or so, over the town line into Hazard Falls, Kansas—her destination.

She’d never been there before, and hopefully, she wouldn’t have to stay long, maybe a week or two. Once she finished conducting her business there, she’d be free to go anywhere in the country, maybe even the world. But, first things first—getting her due.

The rumble of an engine approaching had her pivoting toward the direction she'd come from.

A blue late-model Dodge pickup appeared from around a bend in the road, slowed, and then pulled to a stop behind her truck.

A flicker of fear ran through her as she realized she could be attacked out there in the middle of nowhere and no one would ever know.

A lone male driver was the only occupant, but between his cowboy hat and the sun’s glare skating across the windshield, she couldn’t get a good look at his face.

He climbed out of the truck and shut the door before striding toward her.

His long, lean legs ate up the distance in no time as her gaze started at his shit-kicker boots and traveled upward.

He was a few inches taller than her, but the hat added to his height.

His body was a piece of art in snug jeans and a red T-shirt that showed off his muscular torso and broad shoulders.

Wisps of light brown hair peeked out from under his hat at the sides.

He stopped a few feet away and didn’t crowd her, which made her a little less wary.

“Howdy, ma’am. Having engine trouble?”

Oh, Lord. If his incredible physique wasn't enticing enough, his low, husky drawl was enough to melt steel.

She could listen to that voice read the dictionary and never tire of it.

He looked about thirty, maybe a little older.

The brim of his hat still shaded his eyes, but she could make out a sharp jaw, kissable lips, and the hint of a five-o'clock shadow, and she wanted to rub her cheek against its coarseness.

Maybe even run her hands over his entire body.

“Ma’am? Or do you prefer Ms.?”

“Huh?” Shylo shook the dirty thoughts this man conjured up from her mind. “I’m sorry. Got distracted there for a moment.”

When he smirked, she nearly groaned out loud.

It was obvious what, or rather who, had distracted her, and she still hadn’t seen his eyes yet.

It didn’t matter, though—she didn’t have time to deal with a cowboy, even if he was sexy as sin and seemed nice enough.

Maybe he’d be up for a little fun after she got what had brought her to Hazard Falls.

Then, like Brimley Flats, she would leave the Podunk town in the dust.

She scrambled to recall his first question. “Um... yes, the um... the radiator overheated.”

“I can call a tow truck for you. The cell service out here is spotty, but I have a radio in the truck that I can use to contact my boss.”

“Thanks, but it just needs water, which I have. I have to let it cool down first, though.”

“Well, that’s good, but it won’t last long on water.

You’ll need to get the proper coolant for it.

There’s a small auto supply store attached to a gas station in Hazard, a few miles that way.

” He pointed in the direction they’d both been heading and then glanced over his shoulder.

“But, in the meantime, you’re kinda in a bad spot here.

I have some flares I can set up at the bend back there, so no one comes flying around before we get you back on the road. I’ll be right back.”

While she appreciated the flares, she didn’t need him to stay with her, but before she could say that, he turned around and headed toward his truck.

And damn, the man was as fine going as he was coming.

A gorgeous ass and long legs in tight Wranglers over cowboy boots had always been her kryptonite.

So much for keeping her attention on the reason she'd come to Kansas.

Seth Parker couldn’t help but stare at the stranded woman as he dropped his truck’s tailgate and opened the toolbox.

He’d never seen the raven-haired beauty before—she was unforgettable, even without knowing her name.

She stood about three inches shorter than his five-foot-ten frame and had generous curves in all the right places.

But it had been her chestnut-colored eyes that drew him in.

They'd held caution, curiosity... and something that looked a lot like attraction. He wasn’t one to brag—okay, maybe sometimes—but the good looks he'd been blessed with rarely had trouble catching a woman's eye. Hell, men had even hit on him a few times over the years, even though he didn’t swing that way.

It never bothered him since he suspected at least one of the ranch hands was gay, and his two bosses, Shane and Tucker Wilson, were married to each other and their wife, Paige.

While many straight men would lose their shit if another guy flirted with them, Seth took it as a compliment while gently declining the offers.

His cock only got hard for women, as long as they didn’t get too attached and start using the M-word.

He preferred to play the field, and the thought of a long-term commitment with a ring and legal document made him nauseous.

He grabbed three round, battery-operated emergency flares and confirmed they were fully charged before jogging toward the sharp bend.

With limited visibility ahead, it was a common spot for accidents—usually involving deer or other wildlife.

Still, it wasn’t the best place to break down.

Drivers had a habit of speeding through that stretch.

After turning on the LED flares and setting them down in easy-to-see spots on the side of the road along the bend, he returned to his truck.

He'd been in Wexler picking up supplies the Red River Ranch needed sooner than they could be shipped.

It wasn't unusual. Hazard Falls had the basics, but for anything else, someone usually drew the short straw and made the twenty-minute drive to Wexler instead of continuing to Garden City.

Grabbing two cold bottles of his favorite root beer from the center console, he carried them back to the attractive woman, who leaned against the front quarter panel of her dilapidated truck, watching him.

He held out the unopened bottle to her, keeping the one he’d already drunk from for himself. “Here. I thought you might be thirsty.”

She hesitated a moment before taking it from him. “Thank you.” When the cap’s seal cracked open, she seemed to relax a little, as if maybe she’d thought he might’ve given her a spiked drink or something. “And thank you for putting up the flares. I keep forgetting to pick some up.”

“They have some in the auto supply store. You can grab them when you get the coolant.”

After taking a sip of the soda, then replacing the cap, she glanced over her shoulder at the engine. “Speaking of which. The radiator should be cool enough for the water.”

When she opened the rear cab door and pulled out a gallon of water, he quickly reached over and took it from her. “Here, let me do that for you.”

With the plastic jug in one hand, he set his soda bottle down in the truck’s bed on top of one of five large gray tote boxes.

Several bungee cords prevented them from sliding around while the truck was in motion.

He wondered if she was moving somewhere, but aside from the totes and an old suitcase he spotted in the back seat, there wasn’t much else.

“I can do it. You don’t have to,” she said.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather help than stand here and watch you do it while I twiddle my thumbs.”

While he had an eye for the ladies and dated many of them short-term, his mother raised him to be a gentleman during the eight short years she was in his life.

Those lessons had stayed with him ever since, despite his miserable upbringing after she was gone.

Meanwhile, Paige loved teasing him that his man-whore days would end when the right woman came along.

He loved her like the sister he'd never had, but he was certain hell would freeze over before he settled down with one woman.

Using the bandana he kept in his back pocket, he twisted off the radiator cap and set it aside. He poured the water into the radiator, then took another gallon from the mystery woman and emptied that one too. When he was done, she collected the plastic jugs and tossed them into the back seat.

“There,” he said while replacing the cap and shutting the hood. “That should get you into Hazard with no further problems. I can follow you, though, just in case.”

After wiping his hands on the bandana, he held one out to her, flashing a dimpled grin.

“By the way, I’m Seth Parker.”

Again, she hesitated before shaking his hand. “Shylo Kellerman.”

She suddenly released him as if he’d burned her, then stepped back several feet, her gaze not meeting his as she grabbed the door handle. “I... uh... I have to get going. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re very welcome.” He lunged forward to swing the door open wider for her to get in. “Are you from around here? I mean, I know you’re not from Hazard because it’s not a big town, and I would’ve remembered you if we’d crossed paths.”

She climbed into the driver’s seat and tugged on the door. He shut it since the window was down, and he could still talk to her. Shaking her head, she started the engine. “No, I’m not from around here. Just passing through.”

“Well, we’ve got a nice little town with a few bed and breakfasts. Maybe I could convince you to stick around and let me buy you dinner.”

Before she could answer him, a Chevy Tahoe with an overhead light bar pulled up beside them, and Officer Lane Myers of the Hazard Falls Police Department lowered the passenger-side window. “Hey, Seth. Everything okay?”

He stepped closer to the SUV. “Yeah, Lane. Her truck overheated, but all’s good now.”

“Thanks again. Bye!”

At Shylo’s voice, Seth spun around to see the pickup truck moving forward and pulling back out onto the road. Waving her hand out the window, she sped up. Stunned that he’d lost his opportunity to get a date with her, he glared at Lane. “Great timing, asshole.”

The lawman had the audacity to laugh in Seth’s face. “Glad I could be of service. Couldn’t let you corrupt another innocent woman.”

“Asshole,” he repeated to his friend as he crossed his arms and leaned against the window frame.

“Who was she? I didn’t recognize the truck.”

“Shylo something. Said she was passing through.” When a thought popped into his head, he glanced in the direction she’d gone, then groaned and slapped the inside of the door. “Damn it! She took my root beer. It was in the bed.”

Lane laughed harder at that. “Well, at least something of yours was in her bed!”

Scowling, he pointed at the other man. “You really are an asshole sometimes.”

“So Lou keeps telling me.”

Betty Lou Davidson owned Bar None, a combination restaurant, bar, and dance hall in Hazard.

She and Lane had dated in high school. But they got into a fight, and he left town to join the Marines after graduating.

When he returned home several years later and took a job with the police department, she’d made her hostility toward him known to everyone.

Ever since, unbeknownst to her, people around town had bet on when the two of them would fall into bed together.

It was clearly a case of love/hate, and Lane was determined to win her back one of these days.

Shaking his head, Seth leaned back. “See you at Bar None tomorrow?”

“For Shane’s birthday? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Turning toward his own truck, he tapped the SUV’s roof as Lane pulled away.

After retrieving the LED flares, he tossed them back into the toolbox and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Before putting the truck in gear, he stared ahead, but Lane’s vehicle and the beat-up Ford Ranger were both long gone.

He really wished he could’ve gotten a date with the woman, or at the very least, her cell phone number.

Maybe he’d get lucky and run into her again.