2. Reed #2
Since then, all three of us have put blood, sweat, and tears into this place. Dean had been as good as his word, and Lennon and I are now junior co-owners, and after all our hard work, the place is beginning to show a profit, and the future looks rosy.
So yeah, I owe a lot to Dean, and in return, I let him boss me around even though he has absolutely no right to. But like in the SEALs, he's the CO, and when the CO gives an order, you obey. So, I stay silent now, even though I'm winning this argument, as usual.
The silence grows stifling as we drive, so I go back to humming the song, " California girls, we're undeniable... " watching the passing wilderness and the long stretch of road.
Something happens to break the monotony. The shape of a car by the side of the road. A wreck? But no, upon closer inspection, it's only stuck in a ditch.
It's a rental sedan, silver, with the company logo emblazoned on the side. As we drive by, I catch a glimpse of a long-haired someone in the driver's seat.
Was that a woman?
"Stop the truck!" I order, and there's enough urgency in my voice to bring us to a screeching stop.
"What is it?" Dean asks, but instead of answering, I open the door and hop out, slamming the door behind me and striding back to the rental car in the ditch.
Yes, as I thought, it is a woman... and what a stunner!
Long blonde hair tumbling to her shoulders, a tight sweater that whilst modest in terms of coverage does absolutely nothing to hide a figure that would make any red-blooded man start to salivate.
I've not seen her before, of that I am sure.
I would definitely remember a figure like that!
What in Hell's she doing here, in the middle of nowhere?
I tap on the window, and she finally looks up at me, though she must have heard me approaching.
Through the glass, I'm impaled by two bright green eyes that sear into my soul.
Holy shit. She is beautiful. Not the sort of beauty that comes out of bottles and lotions, requiring a skilled artist to paint on each day.
Her beauty is much more than skin deep—it's in her bones.
The soft curve of her cheek bones, the gentle swoop of her neck, the dimples in her shoulders as she nervously adjusts her sweater for maximum coverage.
And those eyes! A man could get lost for days staring into eyes like those.
Two limpid, glowing pools of emerald, that are filled right now with equal parts fear and relief.
Understandable. No woman wants to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere all night.
But on the other hand, she doesn't know me and doesn't realize how lucky it is for her that I'm the one who's found her.
But she will know, of that I am determined because…
well… who is this woman, and where has she been all my life?
Is Lennon right after all? Is there such a thing as love at first sight? Because… wow!
As her wide-eyed gaze continues to stare up at me, I come to my senses, realizing what I must look like—a large and intimidating stranger ogling her through the window. I put my hands up, palms open wide to indicate how harmless I am, while widening my smile.
"Hey," I call out in a cheery voice, loud enough for her to hear me through the window. "You need help?"
She hesitates, then nods. She winds the window partway down, and gestures with the phone in her hand, telling me, "I'm trying to call Triple A, but there's no service."
"Yeah, it's hard getting service this side of the mountain. You'll have to go all the way up to get decent reception."
"Oh," she says, and her face shows her conflict. She's not sure whether or not to trust me yet. I get it—she's a woman traveling solo, and I'm a huge, scary man.
And to make it worse, I can hear my equally huge and scary friends getting out of the truck too.
I need to put her at ease, so I walk around and analyze her tire. With luck, we can pull her out and have her on her way without her needing to even get out of her car.
But once I see the damage, I realize it's impossible. The tire is punctured, the wheel is bent, and the ditch is too deep. The car needs to be towed.
I take my own phone out of my pocket. It has one bar, so she may be able to get Triple-A after all, though it still means waiting here for a couple of hours, which I do not advise at all.
I gesture to my friends, who are waiting by the truck, signaling for them to stay put a little longer. She needs to come with us, but it won't be any easier convincing her with them standing behind me.
"Tell you what," I say, walking back to the window. "How about I give you a ride back to town, and you can make the call from there? This sucker isn't going anywhere."
She sighs and finally rolls the window fully down. "That's what I was afraid of."
I nod as she chews her lip.
"I'm not heading into town, though," she says.
"Where are you going?"
"A place up in the mountains called True Heart Lodge."
My eyes widen. I know exactly the place she's talking about. It's an abandoned plot, with a small cabin and twenty or so acres of land, and it's right next to our ranch.
"Do you know it?" she asks.
"Know it?" I ask, chuckling. "I live next to it."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Little wooden cabin? With a lake? Three tall pines on a hill?"
"Yeah, that's the place."
"Yeah, we can take you there. Although I'm not sure if we should—you see, it's been abandoned by the owners for years."
"I know." She gives me a wry smile that tugs at my heartstrings. "I'm the owner."
"Well, isn't that a kicker? That makes you my neighbor!" I can't help the smile that grows on my lips.
She smiles back, and I say, "So, do you want a ride? Alternatively, I can call Triple-A for you. I've got a bar on my phone, but it's gonna take them at least two hours to get here, and I don't think you should be waiting alone out here that long at this time of night."
She chews her lip again, her forehead furrowing adorably. "You sure you don't mind?"
"We don't mind." I glance at Dean, who's giving me that frown of his. He'll probably mind, but that's not important. He thinks he's in charge. He's not. Not anymore.
As I said before, Dean's only a little older than Lennon and me, but he likes to act like our dad.
Honestly, though, he kept us alive in some ugly places.
We all fought alongside each other in the SEALs and we all covered each other's asses when the chips were down.
We owe a debt to one another—and an even bigger one to the guys in our platoon who didn't make it back.
None of us came back untouched, and it's easy to see how the responsibility forced on Dean back then, as a young man, has become embedded in who he is today. So yeah, he still orders us around. But I don't mind. I know it comes from a place of love.
She eyes me for a moment before holding out her hand. "Do you have your phone on you?"
"Yeah," I hand her my phone, and she takes it, dialing a number and putting it to her ear.
"Hey, Tara. I'm leaving this voicemail in case I get murdered. Find the owner of this phone. His name is..."
She looks up at me, and I snort.
"Reed Lawson."
"His name is Reed Lawson. Alright, love you. Bye."
She hangs up and hands me back the phone, easy as that. "Alright. I'm ready."
I chuckle.
Just like that, I'm smitten.