Chapter 3
Ava
Istare at my reflection under the harsh light of the truck-stop bathroom. I look like a ghost. A ghost that just climbed out of a swimming pool. Big, scared eyes staring from a pale face, and my hair all plastered down.
Bit of a shock, huh? Stinger’s words come back to me.
I’ll say. The last hour has been like… like nothing I could’ve imagined.
I was paralyzed with fear in the car. I couldn’t get the door open by myself.
I turned off the engine because I was scared it could catch fire or something, and the interior was already getting cold.
My phone wasn’t working. I was just sitting there, praying, praying somebody would find me.
And then he appeared, out of nowhere. Massive, scary-looking, with his heavy jaw and forehead, and angry eyes. But he stopped his truck and came back for me, in the middle of a storm.
The look in those pale-blue eyes as they roved over me.
How they burned with something that was less angry, and more like hunger.
It’s weird. I should’ve been scared of him.
In my world, his appearance is definitely a red flag.
But instead, I felt this connection to him.
Something I’ve never felt before. And when he leaned in and scooped me out of the car seat, I thought, this is meant to be.
Which makes no sense, at all.
But now he’s sitting right here in the diner—waiting for me.
Gooseflesh springs up, and I rub at my forearms. He’s nothing like the romance heroes I’ve been dreaming of all my life.
He’s not smooth; he doesn’t wear a suit.
He probably doesn’t own a private jet, or ride a white horse, but there’s something so raw and sexy about him that even now, shocked as I am, my body is lighting up at the thought of seeing him again.
Did I really wrap myself around his big arm like a baby animal? That was literally how I felt. Clinging to him, his arm like a tree trunk, or at least a real thick branch, while he protected me from the snow and ice. In the mirror, I see my cheeks warming at the recollection.
Geez, I look a sight. Maybe I can dry my hair, at least. I go to the dryer, turn it on.
It roars to life, thank goodness, and I stick my head under it.
A couple of minutes later, it’s a little fluffy, but dry.
I get a tissue and fix the smudged mascara under my eyes, too.
Not a whole lot better, but at least I don’t look like a drowned rat anymore.
There he is. The second I emerge from the door, his attention focuses in on me, and I feel like I’m caught in the glare of headlights—icy blue headlights.
It’s intense, but kind of exciting. I’ve never liked my curvy body, but for a second, I feel like one of those sexy, confident heroines from my favorite novels.
I make it almost all the way to the table, and then my foot shoots out from underneath me, and I slip. I yelp in panic, but Stinger is right there. In the split second before my ass hits the floor, he catches me.
“Steady there,” he says. His big hands encircle my hips and the warmth of his hands floods through my jeans. He guides me back into my seat, and when he finally releases me and sits back down, I miss his touch.
Is that crazy?
“Thanks,” I mutter. The coffee has arrived, and I lift it to my face and hide my embarrassment in it.
When I look up again, he’s gazing at me, and his lips are tugging up at the corners, like he’s enjoying what he’s seeing. Does he think I’m attractive? My heart thuds.
“Beautiful hair,” he murmurs.
I scrub at it self-consciously. No one’s ever said that before. “Better when it’s not wringing wet, huh?”
Now his hair is almost dry, I see it’s a sandy kind of brown.
He’s actually real handsome, behind all that scariness.
Those piercing blue eyes are as sexy as hell, and his lips…
firm, well-shaped… more kissable than they’ve got any right to be.
A bad thought darts through my mind, and that little place between my thighs starts to tingle.
“You feeling better now?” he asks.
I nod. I hate that he thinks I’m ditzy. I mean I am. But suddenly I don’t want to be like that for him.
“It was real dumb getting caught in the blizzard,” I blurt out. “I should’ve checked the weather forecast. I would’ve if I hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away. I’ve learned my lesson, that’s for sure—”
“Ava,” he cuts in. “I checked the forecast in the morning. There was no blizzard threatening. It was a freak event.” He’s looking at me so kindly, my eyes prickle, and I feel something deep in my soul—that’s been wound tight for I don’t know how long—start to loosen.
“Thanks for saying so. But even if the forecast had been screaming gigantic blizzard approaching! in bright red letters, I wouldn’t have seen it.”
He chuckles. “Sounds like you had somewhere important to be?”
I shrug. “I did, but—”
“No buts. Sometimes life gets too much and a person can only handle one thing at a time.”
I stare at him. No one has ever been kind about my flakiness before. I’m used to constant teasing and mockery.
“You’re a tough girl, Ava. I can see that about you,” he continues.
“You can?” I breathe.
“Yup. It’s in your eyes. I can tell you’ve been through stuff.”
My breath catches in my throat. I want to tell him everything. He’s a complete stranger, but I feel like he can see me. The real me. It’s a scary thought. I lick my lips nervously.
“Where were you headed tonight?”
“A small town, about an hour away,” I say cautiously. In the emails I exchanged with the bookshop owner, she told me Perdue is a kind of secretive place and I shouldn’t talk about it to outsiders.
His heavy eyebrows draw together. “You’re not heading to Perdue Town?”
“Yeah, why?”
He blinks and his lips turn down at the corners. “Why you going there?” he demands.
“To start a new job.”
Stinger’s dismay deepens. “But why there?”
“I–I wanted to move someplace new. The job looked interesting…” I falter, wondering why me moving to Perdue seems to be making him mad.
“It’s not a place for humans like you,” he growls.
“Humans? What? What are you talking about?”
He kind of recoils, like he realizes he said too much. “I just think you should go somewhere else,” he says.
“Why—?” I start to ask, but the server, who’s been shooting me bitchy looks ever since we got here, arrives with three plates piled high with food. My mouth waters, and I realize I’m starving. Forgetting the conversation for a moment, we both dig in.
“It’s a place for screwed-up folk,” he says, suddenly.
My head jerks up. “What makes you think I’m not screwed up?”
He looks me up and down reflectively. “Nope. You’re nothing like the folk in Perdue.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Don’t you have family to stay with?”
Family. The word screeches through my brain, trailing ugliness and threats and manipulation.
“No, I’m all alone,” I say.
Something shifts behind his eyes, and he looks softer. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is.” I poke my remaining pancake with my fork. “That’s why I wanted a new start.”
His eyebrows tug together. “You need somebody to take care of you.”
“I’m used to taking care of myself.”
“A man to protect you,” he continues. “Keep you safe.”
His gaze burns into mine, and I swallow hard.
I’ve already made peace with the fact that men like this only exist in dreams. Or between the pages of romance novels. But Stinger sounds serious.
Like he… like imagines being that guy?
Suddenly, the room is too hot and I feel lightheaded, like the world is flipping upside down.
Too much for a girl.
“Where were you going?” I say, desperate to change the subject.
“Up the interstate.” He shrugs. “That’s what I do. Back and forth. Shipping stuff. No real destination.”
“But where’s your home? Where do you live when you’re not working?”
“I live on the road,” he says simply. “Sleep in my truck every night.”
I put my silverware down with a clatter. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like the black sheep of my criminal family. But here’s someone even more alone than me.
“Do you like it?”
His massive shoulders heave. “It’s okay, I guess.”
I keep looking at him, but it seems like that’s all I’m going to get out of him.
The server comes and takes our plates.
I reach for my purse. “I’ll get the check.”
“No, Ava.” His big hand comes down on mine. Damn, his touch is more thrilling than it has any right to be. His big, truck driver’s hand, all rough and callused. I swallow hard. Try to ignore the tingle between my thighs, which is fast turning to an ache.
“It’s the least I can do after you rescued me.”
“No arguments,” he says, and he looks so fierce, I give in. When he opens his wallet, I see it’s stuffed with bills.
“Okay. If you say so. I mean, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, and a look of pleasure crosses his rugged face.
He likes doing things for me. My chest warms at the realization.
Then I remember we’re only here because he rescued me, and there’s no reason for me to hang around any longer.
“Guess I’ll go check into the motel,” I say reluctantly. I don’t want to go. I want to stay right here with Stinger.
“Stay here!”
His voice is so loud, I jump. “W-what?”
He growls a little bit and shakes his head, like he’s fighting some internal battle. “Nothing.” He frowns and stands up abruptly. “I mean, I’ll walk you there.”
What did he mean? He doesn’t want me to go, either?
My heart beats fast as I get to my feet.