Chapter 3
Chapter three
Grace
Ididn't know what was worse, the throbbing pain in my ankle or the fact that the hottest man I’d ever seen in my life was standing in front of me and I looked like I’d been hit by a truck.
“You all right there, miss?” he asked, a twang to his voice that made me forget about my bloody knee.
I stared at him like an idiot. I didn’t have words. When he stepped toward me, I blurted out, “I fell,” like a bumbling fool.
“You look like you’ve made a bit of a mess there,” he confirmed, pointing at my leg.
No shit, Sherlock. It might look bad, but I could pretty much guarantee that it hurt more.
There was something about him. I don't know if it was the way he blundered and looked like he’d been the one knocked on his ass or the fact that his aviators hid his eyes, but I was intrigued. If I was smart, I would’ve been scared, but instead, I was intrigued and needed to know more.
He stepped toward me, and I straightened my spine. I stood as tall as I could while balancing on one leg and trying not to fall on my ass. Again.
“What are you doing all the way out here this time of night? It’ll be dark soon,” he pointed out the obvious.
“I was supposed to be home by now, but … well, I fell, and it’s taking a lot longer to get back than it should.”
“I could give you a ride,” he offered, pushing his hair off his forehead.
Gabriella would kill me if I got in the car with a stranger, but the more I considered his offer the better it sounded.
Getting a ride with a sexy stranger was better than hobbling home in the dark where I could get eaten by a wild animal or freeze to death.
It wasn’t like I was dressed to spend the night exposed to the elements.
“You can call someone and give them my name and license plate if it makes you more comfortable. My mama would have my hide, God rest her soul, if she knew I left a beautiful woman alone to fend for herself.”
That got my attention. “I’m not some damsel in distress,” I snapped harshly, immediately regretting my tone.
He just grinned making his adorable dimples pop. You know the ones that made smart girls do dumb things? Dumb things like climb in a sexy stranger’s truck without so much as asking his name.
Before common sense kicked in or I started to listen to Gabriella’s nagging voice in my head, he helped me into the cab of his truck.
When he leaned across and pulled the seatbelt over me, making sure I wasn’t going anywhere, I almost groaned.
Part of me wanted to kick and scream and remind him that I wasn’t a toddler, but kicking and screaming probably wouldn’t help me prove my point.
Instead, I waited until he shut the door and rounded the hood before I looked around.
His truck wasn’t messy, a bit dirty with mud on the floors and a sweatshirt tossed on the back seat, but it was the smell that I couldn’t place. It was something completely masculine and honest and I could see myself becoming addicted.
He swung up into the cab and fired up the ignition. “Where to darlin’?” he asked, I swooned.
“Wait!” I cut him off before the wheels started rolling.
“What’s wrong?” he replied, panic in his voice.
“What’s your name?” I asked slightly embarrassed. I probably should have asked before I climbed into his truck, but better late than never.
He chuckled. A low rumbling sound I knew I could get used to. “Name’s Cole. Cole Flanigan,” he replied, stretching his hand out to shake mine.
“Nice to meet you Cole. I’m Grace Hamilton,” I confirmed, placing my palm in his. His huge hand dwarfing mine.
“You too Grace. Now, where are we headed?” he asked again, pulling his hand back.
“Do you know Sweet Dreams B&B?”
“Georgia’s place?”
Of course, he knew Georgia. Everyone did. She was never backward in coming forward, and if she got one look at this guy, I’m sure she’d be introducing herself.
I deflated.
“Yeah. that’s the one.”
“No worries,” he replied, shoving the truck in gear and spinning it around.
For a couple of minutes, we drove in awkward silence. I was berating myself for thinking stupid things and getting ideas when he was just being nice.
“So, you staying long or just passing through?” he enquired, glancing over at me.
I looked at him and I mean, I really looked at him.
He was gorgeous in a hardworking man way.
His skin had been darkened by days spent under the blazing sun and wrinkles marred his forehead.
His hair was too long and could use a cut but somehow it worked for him.
But it was his hands that had me captivated.
They were a working man's hands. With dirt under his nails and calluses that I imagined would never go away, his relaxed grip on the steering wheel gave him an air of authority.
“Not sure,” I answered, not wanting to talk about it.
The problem was I had no idea if I was here for a few days, a few weeks, or a few months. My future was a mess. It’s probably why I’d decided to go for a run in the first place, but like everything else in my life, that, too, ended in disaster.
We drove the rest of the way in stilted silence.
My leg was throbbing, and my ankle felt like it was on fire, but my ego hurt the most. Not only had I managed to twist my ankle and fall on my ass, but the hottest guy I’d ever seen had to be the one to find me.
With my bloody knee, tear-stained face, and clothes that I should never have borrowed from Georgia’s closet.
Cole turned onto the gravel driveway and we bumped down before pulling up at the house. I unclicked my belt and turned to thank him.
“Well, thanks for the ride Cole.”
“You’re welcome, Grace,” he replied, his manners impeccable and I just knew his mamma raised him right.
I reached for the handle and shoved open the door.
“Wait!” Cole burst out, reaching for my arm.
As soon as his hand landed on my forearm, a zap of something I didn’t recognize zipped through my body, and suddenly, it wasn’t only my leg that was throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” I started before realization hit me in the head like it should’ve been obvious. “Oh, I’m sorry. If you give me a minute to run inside and grab my purse, I’ll give you some cash.”
“I don't want your money,” he scoffed, sounding offended.
“You don’t?”
“Hell no,” he grumbled, rubbing his hands on his powerful, denim-clad thighs.
“Then …”
“Is that what you think? I gave you a ride and now you have to pay me?”
“Well, I mean …” I felt even more awkward now. “You went out of your way to help me, and I mean, gas isn’t cheap …”
“I can afford gas,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m just used to Uber.”
“You use Uber?”
“Of course. In the city everyone does,” I offered as a way of explaining.
“So you’re saying if you were in the city and you fell, you’d call an Uber?”
“Yeah?” It came out as more of a question. When Cole put it like that, it had me second-guessing things I wouldn’t have thought twice about before.
“What about your boyfriend?”
“What boyfriend?”
I couldn’t even remember the last guy I actually called a boyfriend. There’d been a few casual mistakes but no one noteworthy for years.
I was convinced I was the problem and had pretty much given up on the opposite sex for anything more substantial than a few nights tangled in the sheets.
Cole didn't reply. Instead, he shoved open his door and jumped out of the truck, jogging around the hood.
When he stepped up to my door he offered me his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, staring at his hand like a snake about to bite me.
“Helping you out of the truck,” he replied.
I took his hand, and the touch of his skin warmed me from the tips of my fingers down to my toes.
I let him help me out, wincing as my feet hit the ground and a pain shot through my body. “You know I can do it myself,” I reminded him.
“I’m sure you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply. Instead, Cole leaned down and swept me up into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tight.
He smelt so good, and he was so warm and firm.
It would’ve been so easy to close my eyes and relax into him, but I wasn’t that girl.
Even if right now, I wanted to be her so badly.
“What are you …?”
“You can’t walk on that leg.”
“Can too.”
“Grace.” My name came out as a growl I felt in my tingling core.
“Cole,” I returned as sassily as I could muster.
“Stop wiggling,” he complained, bumping the truck door closed with his hip before carrying me across the lawn.
“Put me down. I’m too heavy,” I whined pathetically. The truth was, I didn't want him to put me down. Not right now, not ever. But Cole was a stranger, and I was only passing through.
“You’re not heavy, Grace. You’re perfect,” he replied, and I swooned.
“I’m far from perfect, Cole.”
“You’re closer than you think,” he answered, but before I could press him further the screen door squeaked as it was thrown open.
“Grace! What happened?” I heard Gabriella screech and buried my face in the crook of Cole’s neck. The moment was gone. The bubble had burst. And I knew the second Cole’s truck bumped back down the drive, I was going to be under interrogation about the sexy stranger carrying me up the stairs.