Chapter 5
AJ
Ihad barely processed what was happening when a cold blast of air hit me as Sam jumped from the truck.
The door slammed with an authoritative thunk.
I leaned over to watch him half stride and half slide up the middle of the road toward the offending truck’s driver-side door.
Even while trying to maintain his balance on the slippery road, there was an air of authority around him, and I couldn’t look away.
There had been a noticeable difference in the road condition as we approached and passed Merritt. The snow had been falling faster too.
What is he doing?
He jumped up on the running board of the rig while it spun in place and motioned for the driver to roll down the window. I winced. I couldn’t hear what Sam was saying to the driver, but if the hand gestures were an indicator, the driver was being put in his place.
This was so dangerous. Did he care about everyone’s safety but his own?
Sam stepped down and was guiding the driver backward down the hill, and to the shoulder, until they stopped at a slightly flatter patch.
More drivers moved around the truck, leaving only inches between their tires and Sam’s back.
The driver jumped down from the rig, slamming the door behind him. I braced myself for a brawl, but instead he and Sam walked to the side of the truck and pulled out a set of tire chains.
The driver moved toward the first tire and started trying to lay them out flat.
Sam watched for all of a half second with his hands on his hips before nudging the man aside and starting to do it himself. The angry gesturing was back.
I found myself leaning even closer to the windshield, staring at the scene through the thickly falling snow.
There was something mesmerizing about watching Sam do his thing.
The way his skilled hands worked the chains.
The physicality of it. Watching him maneuver his big body around and over the truck.
With the men I usually encountered, it was all cunning, polish, and persuasion.
This was skill, experience, and pure muscle.
I had heard the term competence porn somewhere, and this definitely qualified.
If I had laser vision, his ass would have caught fire, and I was drooling enough to extinguish the flame.
Red and blue flashing lights bathed the interior of the cab, and I turned in my seat. A police car had pulled up behind Sam’s truck, and two officers were heading in the rig’s direction.
Sam intercepted the taller of the two officers before he could get to the scene. I slid farther into the driver’s seat and cracked the window so I could hear.
“Another rig obstructing traffic because they don’t have chains on.
When are you going to start ticketing these guys?
You’re killing me here, Brock. They make the whole industry look bad.
” Sam was gesturing wildly toward the immobile rig and was towering over the officer.
Sam had a few inches of height on him, but the size difference was exaggerated since Sam had inflated his chest like a pissed off puffer fish.
If I was honest with myself, it was kind of hot.
The officer ran his gloved hand over his face but was otherwise unaffected by the display. “Sam, we go over this every time. We do ticket them, but we can’t be everywhere all the time. Neither can CVSE.”
Sam made a rude noise and crossed his arms over his chest.
The officer lowered his voice, and I strained to hear, pressing my fingers to the freezing window. “I know how dangerous these situations are and that winter storms bring up what happened with your sister-in-law but—”
Sam cut him off. “Don’t bring her into this.” His tone left no room for questioning. He glanced back toward the driver, who was still struggling with the tire chains. “Oh, for crying out loud.” He stalked back over to the rig.
The officer, Brock apparently, had turned to go to where his partner was controlling traffic, and I scrambled to open the door and tumbled out.
“Officer!” The cold hit me like a frying pan to the face.
My sharp, expensive, never-has-to-be-ironed suit jacket was as useful as tissue paper against the mountain cold.
“Ma’am, stay in your vehicle.”
“Is the road closing? Is that why you’re here?” If the road was closing, my odds of getting to Vancouver in time for my flight were basically zero. That wasn’t an option. Ogling Sam was fun, but I had a promotion to win.
He rubbed the back of his neck. He looked too young to have as much responsibility as he did. “The road conditions are being monitored closely, but as long as Sam can get this guy moving, then it is open for now. "
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to emulate what I had been told to do in the one yoga class I had taken.
Now that the possibility of imminent closure was out of my head, I was curious to know more about Sam.
“You two know each other, I take it?” I asked, pointing between the two men.
The officer nodded. “We’re friends, not that you could tell.” He gave an amused smile. “Been working scenes together on this highway for years. I’m Brock, by the way.” He extended his hand.
“AJ.” I shook his hand before stuffing mine back in my pocket. The cold had seeped through every clothing layer I had on, and I shivered to my core.
“So how did you get stuck traveling with Safety Sam?” He kept a trained eye on the traffic.
“My flight got canceled in Kamloops, so I’m getting towed to Vancouver.”
He glanced at the back of the tow truck and raised his eyebrows. “Did you forget the car?”
“It’s a long story.”
Brock nodded as if this was the most normal thing he had heard that day. It is entirely possible that it was. “He comes across gruff, and busting his chops is both easy and fun, but the highway would be a safer place with more people like him on it. His truck is probably the best place to be.”
“I’m not sure everyone appreciates his hard work,” I noted, and I nodded my frozen chin to where the rig driver was finishing putting his chains on with a distinctly unhappy look on his face.
Brock chuckled, but then the radio on his shoulder crackled to life and he stepped away to listen. A moment later, he yelled, “Sam, we don’t have time for safety school. Get this traffic moving.”
Sam scowled in his direction, but after a few more words, the driver was back in his truck. The tires spun a fraction before the metal of the chains bit into the icy road, and the truck started slowly moving up the hill.
Brock headed back toward where his partner was gesturing traffic back into motion.
Sam stalked back to the tow truck, his gaze locked on me. His frown deepened. “I thought I said to stay in the truck.”
My default mode was defensive, and the growl in his voice got my hackles up. It also started a reaction in another place in my body, but my attitude led the way. I planted my hands on my hips. “I did, until the cops showed up.”
“This highway isn’t safe, AJ; I won’t allow you to get hurt—”
The sound of a horn blaring and Brock’s voice hit my ears at the same time as I was swept into two very strong arms. I barely registered the feel of Sam’s chest on mine before my back hit the snowbank. A small car careened past where we had just been standing.
The cold of the snow burned against my back where my jacket had ridden up, but that wasn’t my focus.
My entire body was covered—protected—by Sam’s hulking frame.
His eyes scanned the road behind us, but when he turned back to me, our eyes locked.
Our visible breath mingled in front of my face, and the pounding in my heart wasn’t from the danger anymore.
I became aware of our hips pressing together, the essence of him notched against me.
Concern radiated from his light blue eyes, but the intensity of his stare told me the concern was all for me.
He’d been standing closer to the road. He’d have been hit before me.
He had a business and a family, yet he was using his own body to spare mine from harm.
True selflessness wasn’t a quality I ran into, well, ever.
But right now, it was laying on top of me.
“Are you okay?” he murmured. His voice was raspy yet gentle. His eyes left mine to roam my face and I felt them like a caress.
I nodded dumbly. This was a man pouring from an empty cup.
He was lighting himself on fire to keep others warm.
Name your cliche. The last thing he needed in his life was someone as trapped in their own world as I was, but convincing my body of that was another matter.
The instinct to wrap my arms around his neck or my legs around his waist was hard to ignore.
God, he was so strong, and after two years of me against the world, it was good to feel like someone had my back.