1. Warren #3
“Don’t be a prick. I’m not leaving you out here alone with truck problems and a horse. What do you need?”
I might not like the guy in the rodeo ring, but I’m not turning a blind eye to his situation.
“Nothing. Get back to driving. I’m sure you have a nice, comfortable room and bed to get to.”
Dane moves to open the door of his truck, and I grab his wrist.
“I’m not gonna ignore that you need help. Stop being an asshole and tell me what the problem is.”
Dane lets his hand drop from the door handle and turns to me. He purses his lips, clearly pissed that I’m the one offering help.
“The problem I can’t do anything about is that it’s you who stopped.
” When I don’t bite and tell him to fuck off, he throws his hands in the air.
“Fine.” His shoulders sag, and his voice loses its usual edge.
“I’ve been having issues with the gas gauge.
It’s probably a faulty sender unit. I haven’t had the chance to look into it yet. ”
“Okay. So….”
“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Yes, because I’m not sure what all that means.”
“I ran out of gas, Burke.”
I honestly don’t know what to say. Of all the problems he could have had, I wasn’t expecting that.
“Don’t you have CAA or something? You should’ve stopped at the gas station on the turnoff if you knew you were having issues. You know—”
“Spare me the lecture.” Dane spits. “I don’t need you reminding me I’m stupid and I fucked up. Just…you know what?” His jaw sets, and the guy I know from rodeo returns. “Just go. I’ll wait.”
He practically pushes me into the road, and I don’t know why I do it, but I shove him back harder than needed.
“Would it make you feel better if I didn’t offer help out of kindness? Would you rather owe me something? You’re a champion. You have the cheque to prove it. Throw money at me if it makes you feel better. Just don’t stay out here with your horse to prove some macho point.”
Goddammit, why is he so damn infuriating?
Dane’s jaw clamps shut so hard I worry for his teeth. “I don’t need to owe anyone anything again.”
Our breaths sound harsh in the still night air, and my hand remains against his chest. I let it drop and take a step back from him.
After a pause, he opens the door to his truck and pulls out a hose. “If you can pull in front of or next to me, this should reach.” The silence hangs between us as my mind races with a dozen different thoughts. “Please,” he adds, the word sounding like he just swallowed shards of glass.
With a nod, I walk to my truck and climb in.
The highway is deserted this late, and what we’re doing carries some risk if a speeding vehicle decides it’s not paying attention and slams into the back of my horse trailer.
Dane has pulled off onto the shoulder fairly far, though, and I’m going to hope my good deed doesn’t go punished with an accident.
I’ve barely stopped alongside his truck, and he’s throwing the hose over to me across the back of my truck bed.
“Slide that down into your tank and just hold it so it doesn’t come out.”
After removing the gas cap and inserting the tube, I call back to him. “It’s in.”
I’m oddly fascinated, and I know how a siphon works, but this is a pretty long hose and no slope to help the liquid flow.
The breathy gasps of Dane’s inhales sound over the quiet of the night and the odd huff of our horses.
Then he coughs, and the splatter of liquid hits the ground before it’s cut off.
Gas fumes hit my nose, and beneath my hand, the tube vibrates as gas funnels out.
“How fast does it funnel out? You’re not gonna suck me dry, are you?”
“In your dreams, Burke.”
Dane’s sexy rumbling laugh shouldn’t make my dick perk up, but it does. “Fuck off, Walker. You know what I meant.”
“Kink the hose and take it out while holding it up. This should be enough.”
I do as he asks, and while I raise the hose above my head, I step over the hitch and watch as Dane expertly times the withdrawal to not waste a drop of fuel. He closes the gas cap and snatches the hose from my hand.
“Have you done this before?”
Dane coils the hose and tosses it into the back of the truck bed.
“Does it matter?” He nods at my truck. “Turn it on and tell me how much less you have now.”
“Answer my question.”
I pull up my shoulders to stand straight and maybe command an ounce of respect from the guy since I just saved his ass. His blue eyes seem to spark with a fire in the darkness.
“A few times. Happy?”
“No.” I spin and return to my truck. After starting it, I give it a few seconds for everything to settle and return to Dane. “That’s just shy of half my tank. So about 50 litres, give or take.”
Dane nods and walks to his driver’s side door. “Get going, Burke. I’m sure your daddy is wondering where you are.”
“Would it kill you to say thank you?” I shout into the darkness, and he pauses at his door.
“It might.” He gets into his truck without another word.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter to myself as I slide back behind the wheel. After checking for traffic, I signal and pull away.
It’s the last time I see Dane Walker for five years.