5
Lexie slowly moved to the shoulder, her car thumping wildly with every inch and her dashboard flashing like a carnival game. After turning on her hazard lights and cutting the engine, she eased her door open and circled around to the back of her Infiniti, finding exactly what the fancy sensors said she would.
A flat tire.
Fabulous.
Just another shiny sprinkle on a perfectly exhausting day. The phone call with her father wasn’t even cold yet.
“It’s time to get your act together, Alexis! How long will you insist on dragging this family down with you?”
Lexie sighed, trying to relieve the pressure in her chest. Nothing she did was ever good enough. Not the years of formal cotillion classes she’d endured with a smile, not her college scholarships or honors standing, not her coveted internship position.
She couldn’t even manage to drive correctly.
A visible piece of metal poked out from the rubber, and she nudged it with the toe of her shoe, wincing as the hissing noise got louder. She glanced first one way and then the other down the empty back road, shading her eyes from the glare of the setting sun while she considered her options. Her first call was to INFINITI Roadside Assistance, which of course came standard with the car. After giving her location to the operator, there was a long pause that made her stomach feel heavier with each passing second.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry, but our closest location to you is more than an hour away, and all the attendants are currently on other jobs,” said a friendly woman’s voice, and Lexie could hear the sympathy in her voice. “It could be two hours or more until they reach you. I’m happy to put you on the list if you’d like, but is there anyone closer who might be able to assist you? I’d hate for you to wait that long.”
Lexie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off the headache she knew was coming.
“I’ll find someone, thanks,” she mumbled, hearing the apology that followed before the line disconnected. Scrolling through her frequent contacts, she hovered over Colt’s name.
Colt was not a tire-changing kind of guy. He was a hire-a-tire-changing-guy kind of guy, and besides, he was in Dyer County for dinner with a new client. He would probably send one of his buddies to get her, and the last thing she wanted to do was sit on the side of a dark, lonely, two-lane waiting for Jason Arnolds.
She called Olivia instead and got her voicemail, remembering at the last minute that her roommate was in a late study session.
“Alright, Lexie,” she said out loud, not caring if the cattle watching from beyond the fence thought she was nuts. “You’re a smart, resourceful young woman. You just have to take the screws”—she furrowed her brow, not sure that was the right word—“off the old tire and put on the new one. How hard can it really be?”
She threw her shoulders back, walked purposefully to the trunk and then popped it open. Seconds later, she stood staring down at the clean, beige trunk liner, feeling stupid. Of course it was empty; she’d known that. It’s not like she loaded her groceries around a spare tire, just waiting to be useful.
“Okay, think. If you were a spare tire, where would you be?” she asked herself, glancing back up at the cattle who stood chewing their cud without comment. At least she had company.
Gathering her long hair into one hand, she quickly bent to check beneath the car. Nothing looked promising. She stood and scanned the empty expanse of her trunk again before reaching inside and feeling along the closest edge.
“Yes!” she shouted as she found a small perforation where she could insert her fingers. She tugged the bottom of the trunk up, revealing a compartment that mercifully held a small tire. Then she shoved her hands underneath and managed to wrestle it out of the trunk and lean it against the fender.
“Look at that!” she told the cows. “I’m not totally useless after all!” Breathing hard after the unexpected effort, she planted her hands on her hips and tried to think of what she needed next—some sort of tool, obviously, though she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since there was nothing else in the hidden compartment. She went to rummage in her glove box—nothing useful there either.
Lexie tipped her face toward the sky and reminded herself that the frustrated tears she could feel gathering wouldn’t do anyone any good. She’d be even less competent if she started blubbering like a child. Muttering under her breath, she weighed her phone in her hand. There was an obvious option she hadn’t tried. Colt wouldn’t like it, but then again, Colt wasn’t there.
She frowned at the ruined tire, which now resembled a deflated party balloon, and scrolled back through her contact list. He was probably busy, and even if he wasn’t, he probably didn’t want to talk to her—judging by the last week of radio silence.
Lexie took another deep breath and dialed anyway.
“Hey,” Jake said, answering on the fourth ring. His voice was guarded, but he didn’t sound angry, so that was something, at least.
Lexie leaned against the side of her car and closed her eyes, as if focusing on the dark insides of her eyelids would make the whole night easier.
“Hey. I know this is probably a huge imposition, and I’m really, really sorry to ask, but I was wondering if you... well...” She trailed off, hating how awkward it felt to ask him for help when a week ago she wouldn’t have hesitated. But she couldn’t just stand outside all night.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“How much do you know about changing a tire?” she blurted before she could overthink it anymore.
“A good bit,” he answered.
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t, and her cheeks flushed in acknowledgement of the fact that she hadn’t learned what he obviously considered common knowledge.
“If you’ve got a flat, I’m sure your boyfriend can change it for you.”
Lexie felt another wave of tears surge to the surface and wished, not for the first time, that she could go back in time and be upfront with him from the beginning. She really had messed everything up.
“This isn’t really his thing,” she said, her voice small as she tried to keep it steady.
“But you think it’s mine?” Jake answered, and Lexie hated the distance in his voice. She couldn’t think of a single thing she wouldn’t do to make it sound the way it always had before.
“I know you’re upset with me, and I know I’m asking a lot, but I really just need help right now,” she said. Then she clamped her lips shut and held her breath to keep a sob from escaping. The last thing she wanted to do was let him hear her cry.
There was a moment of silence, and she could imagine his exasperation on the other end of the line. Why would he take time out of his evening to come rescue a stupid girl who’d made him look ridiculous? Why had she even asked?
“Where are you?” His soft question broke the silence, and in it, she almost heard the old Jake.
“Out on Bishop Road, north of the big granary,” she said, the words rushing out in relief as a tear finally broke free and made its way down her cheek. She swallowed hard and wiped it away, willing the rest to stay right where they were.
Jake gave a low whistle. “What are you doing all the way out there?” he asked.
“Just driving. Trying to clear my head, come up with new ideas, find inspiration,” she said with a groan. “But I don’t think that’s what’s stuck in my tire.”
“Do you have a spare?”
“Yes, I found it.”
“Okay. Do you have a tire iron?”
“A what?”
The question came automatically, and Lexie cringed, trying not to imagine what Jake was thinking. But if he laughed, she didn’t hear it. Instead, she heard a door snap shut and a creak of metal that might have been his tailgate closing. Then, she heard the rumble of an engine.
“I’ll be there soon, Lexie. It’s fine.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she said, though her throat was still tight as they hung up. She closed her trunk and climbed up to sit on it, forcing herself to take one deep breath after another. But all she managed to do was listen to the voices that floated on the empty air—the ones reminding her how incapable she really was.
After what felt like an eternity, a pair of headlights appeared near the end of the lonely stretch of road. Lexie watched them grow closer with each passing moment and eventually turned to shield her eyes as Jake’s truck came to a stop on the shoulder. The lights flicked off, and he jumped from the cab before pushing his door shut.
The guilty twist reappeared in Lexie’s stomach as she watched him approach, his face just as shuttered as it had been all week. She thought about the disarming smile he’d given the girl at the Hawk’s Nest and suddenly wished she knew how to earn one for herself. It used to be so easy; she hadn’t even had to work for it. But now, everything had changed.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap.
Jake stopped a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his gaze steady on hers.
“No problem,” he said. “It’s not like I’d just leave you out here.”
He wasn’t cold, exactly, but he definitely wasn’t the Jake she missed so much. The thought that she might never see that side of him again made her eyes burn, and she looked away before he could see her fresh layer of tears. She gestured vaguely to her left, where the evidence of her efforts lay on the ground.
“I found the tire, and I thought I could figure it out. I know it can’t be that hard, but I just don’t have the tools to do it.” She could feel herself babbling. Just the fact that he was there, when he could have been anywhere else, made it hard to breathe again.
Jake must have seen the pain on her face because his expression changed, melting from cautious to concerned in a matter of seconds.
“Hey,” he said softly, coming closer. “Are you okay?”
Lexie shook her head hard as a single tear ran down her cheek. She dashed it away with the back of her hand.
“I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s just a tire,” she said, though her voice wavered. She sucked in a breath and held it, trying to force the flood back behind its containment wall before she lost control completely. A sob still jumped out before she could swallow it.
“Lex?” he said, reaching out to touch her arm.
That simple gesture tipped the scales, and Lexie released a shuddering breath as the dam broke.
“Hey, come here,” he said, tugging her off the back of her car. As soon as her feet hit the ground, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tight and anchoring her against his chest.
Lexie buried her face in his shoulder, not wanting him to see her fall apart even though it was inevitable. Jake’s thumb swept across the base of her neck in a soothing motion that only made her cry harder. Her father would have told her to pull herself together, and Colt would have said she was embarrassing him. But Jake simply held her while her gasping sobs ran their course, letting her tears soak through the cotton of his shirt until it stuck to his skin.
Her body drank in the pressure of his arms, drawing comfort from his presence. Everything about him was solid, from the shoulder she cried on to the way he took her weight when she could barely stand. Finally, her heart began to slow, and she matched her breathing to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her hands. She quieted enough to notice the way the clean, crisp scent of soap and detergent mixed with something that was uniquely Jake, though she couldn’t identify any specific elements within it. He smelled... safe.
That was the only word that came to mind as Lexie breathed him in, feeling herself relax in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
“Better?” he asked at last, and Lexie felt the word rumble through him as he spoke.
She made an affirmative sort of noise but didn’t move, letting herself revel in the way his hand had drifted into the hair at the nape of her neck. He was warm in the chilling evening air, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into him and tell him everything. It had been so long since someone had held her like this—like she was precious and protected. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
The girl from the pool hall was lucky.
Lexie felt a sharp stab of guilt at the base of her heart. That girl was probably waiting for Jake to get back, and here Lexie was, smearing makeup all over him. He’d probably even smell like her perfume when he got home. She wiped her fingers beneath her eyes, knowing she probably had mascara everywhere, and took a step back. Jake’s hold broke reluctantly, like he wasn’t quite ready to let her go, and when she looked up, the depth of emotion on his face took her by surprise. There was a single frozen second where they stood there, neither one daring to breathe. But then he blinked, and the moment shattered.
“I’m sorry,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m such a mess.”
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t be sorry, Lexie.”
His voice was rougher than usual, and his hands balled into fists at his sides, as if he were fighting to control them. He continued to stare for a moment, his jaw clenched tight, and Lexie’s chest contracted again—this time for an entirely different reason. She opened her mouth, not quite sure what she planned to say, but Jake turned toward his truck before whatever it was could come out.
He rummaged around in the passenger’s side of the cab before flipping on his headlights and returning with several tools she only vaguely recognized.
“So, this is an easy swap, just on and off,” he explained, suddenly all business. Just moments ago, he’d done nothing but stare; now, he didn’t seem able to meet her eyes.
Lexie nodded mutely, still steadying herself as he knelt in the dust beside her fender. She felt like if she took a single step, she was going to throw herself at his feet and do something mortifying, like beg him to hold her again.
As if she hadn’t already embarrassed herself enough.
“You’re lucky you didn’t lose control of the car,” he said, fitting a tool onto the bolts holding the old tire. He leaned his weight against what Lexie guessed was a tire iron and forced it to turn. Glancing up, he caught her watching, and she saw his throat work as he swallowed hard.
“Nobody ever taught you to do this?” he asked.
Lexie felt heat in her cheeks again as she shook her head, and Jake gave a decisive nod.
“Alright then. Come here.”
Lexie was caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, but she did as she was told, closing the gap between them and lowering herself to the ground at his side. She kept her attention firmly on the tool he put into her hands, trying to ignore how close he actually was.
“This is a tire iron,” he said, and she caught a trace of humor in his tone. Obviously, he was starting at the very beginning. “You have to loosen the lug nuts before you raise the car so the tire has resistance against the ground,” he explained. “You move in a star pattern to keep everything balanced. I did this one, so you’ll start here,” he said, pointing.
Lexie put the tire iron where he indicated and pushed. When it didn’t move, she rose up on her knees for better leverage, but the lug nut still wouldn’t budge. He’d made it look so easy.
“You’ll need to put your full weight into it. You’re so tiny,” he said, and she paused. “Tiny, but mighty,” he amended quickly, and this time, he definitely sounded amused.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Lexie said as she tried again, her arms shaking with the effort.
“Here, let me help.”
Jake rose to his knees and placed his hands carefully beside hers, though he made sure not to touch her. This time, the nut moved easily, though Lexie knew without a doubt it wasn’t her doing.
“You loosened it,” he said.
Lexie turned her head and caught him smiling—the same way he always had before—and it made her heart stutter. If she’d had any more tears, they would have flowed out in relief.
Maybe she and Jake would be okay after all.
He helped her with one nut after another, and Lexie stopped trying to avoid bumping into him as they worked side by side. Nothing else mattered right then. It was just her and Jake and that busted tire—them against the world. For once, she wasn’t worried about how she looked or how she carried herself; she wasn’t worried about impressing anyone or living up to someone else’s expectations; she wasn’t worried about not being enough. She just was.
It was a feeling she never had with Colt.
Jake talked her through positioning the jack beneath her car and cranking it, and the Infiniti rose slowly off the ground with jerky movements. After a while, Lexie realized he’d never once said she should have already known how to do this or that she was lacking in any way. He simply gave her the skills she didn’t have, without question or accusation, and that made her feel like she could conquer anything.
With the lug nuts gone and the tire off the ground, Lexie reached to remove the old wheel. Jake’s hands brushed over hers as he did the same.
“Maybe let me get this,” he said. “They can be pretty heavy.”
“I can do it,” she insisted, and Jake looked at her with something that was almost admiration.
“Alright, Wonder Woman. You can do it,” he said, moving back—though Lexie noticed he didn’t go very far.
She yanked on the tire and immediately pitched forward when it plummeted to the ground. Jake’s hands darted out and grabbed her shoulders, keeping her from smacking her forehead on the fender.
“See? I told you I could do it,” she said, panting as she sat back on her heels.
Jake was grinning from ear to ear.
“I never doubted you,” he answered. “Although, I do think gravity helped a little.”
Lexie smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, forgetting to second-guess herself. This was the Jake she’d wanted.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, the words slipping out before she could censor them. Jake stilled, his expression frozen, and Lexie cleared her throat. “I’ve missed this,” she clarified as she gestured between them. “I hated this last week.”
A muscle in Jake’s jaw twitched, and he swallowed hard. “Yeah. I hated it, too,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Lexie went on, casting her eyes toward the ground. “I should have told you. I just... didn’t know how.”
Jake sighed and rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. He obviously knew what she meant.
“It’s okay, Lex. We’re good.”
“Yeah?” she asked, more hopeful than she should have been.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, bumping his shoulder against hers.
“Thank you for coming out here,” she said again, picking up a few lug nuts and rolling them in her palm while he reached for the spare tire. There was a long silence as she debated whether or not to ask the question that had imprinted itself in her mind, but friends talked about this kind of thing, didn’t they? And that’s what she and Jake were—friends.
“Did your date from Friday go well?” she finally asked, trying to calm the jitters in her belly. It didn’t matter what he said. Not really.
A deep crease formed on Jake’s brow as he stopped. He seemed to be studying the side of her car as if it might answer his next question.
“My . . . what?”
“The girl from the pool hall? She’s pretty.”
He blinked several times, as if the words weren’t registering.
“Last Friday? I was there with friends. You were with somebody? Sorry, I just assumed...” Lexie trailed off, unsure why he didn’t understand. Maybe she’d been wrong about him after all. Maybe he went out with so many girls that he didn’t remember them all.
The thought made her stomach clench.
“Last Friday...” Jake seemed to be thinking hard, and then his face smoothed out. The corners of his mouth flickered, like he was fighting a smile. “Oh, you mean Brooklyn,” he supplied. His attention seemed to shift back to positioning the new tire.
Lexie tried to ignore the way his fingers brushed across her palm when he retrieved the lug nuts, leaving licks of fire in their wake.
“Brooklyn,” she repeated, testing the word. “You looked comfortable together.”
Jake glanced over, and their eyes met for a fleeting moment.
“We should be. I’ve known her since I was four.”
Lexie’s eyes widened, a little puff of air escaping her lips. “Four? Wow. You definitely have some history then, huh?”
A knowing smile settled on Jake’s face as he turned the handle on the jack and lowered her car back to the asphalt.
“You could say that, yeah. Here, all I’m doing is the same steps in reverse,” he said, changing the topic abruptly. But Lexie didn’t want to learn any more about changing a tire. She wanted to know about Brooklyn. The girl Jake had known all his life. The girl who smiled and teased and challenged him. The girl who—
“Lex?”
Jake’s voice brought her mental avalanche to a sudden stop.
“Yeah?”
“Brooklyn is my cousin.”
Now it was her turn to struggle.
“Your cousin?”
“Yes, one of nine, remember?” Jake smirked as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. “She was here for a campus tour. She’ll be a freshman next year.”
“Oh.” Lexie took a long breath, one that suddenly felt easier, and tried not to show how relieved she was. After all, there was no reason she should care one way or the other.
But you do, a small voice sing-songed, and she quickly silenced it.
Jake used the tire iron to tighten the lug nuts, saying nothing as she watched. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat.
“So, how long have you been with Colt?” His voice was casual, but Lexie saw his shoulders tense as he asked.
She blew out a breath.
“I’m sorry about the way he treated you,” she said, avoiding the question. “Sometimes he can... Well, you saw how he was. He shouldn’t have been a jerk.”
Jake shrugged as he began gathering his tools into a pile. Then he leaned back on his heels and dusted his hands on his jeans.
“As long as he isn’t a jerk to you. That’s what matters,” he said, rising to his feet. He reached a hand down to help her up, and she took it, trying not to watch the way the muscles in his forearms bunched as he pulled her to her feet. It was fully dark now, and his face was unreadable in the harsh glare of his truck’s headlights.
“I’ll follow you home to make sure the spare doesn’t burst, but don’t get above forty-five miles an hour,” he warned, walking over to open her door. “And I can go with you to get a new tire tomorrow, if you want.”
Lexie wiped her hands on her jeans, then nodded as she slid behind the wheel, choosing not to analyze the lump that had formed in her throat. Jake thumped his fist on the roof of her car and started to turn away, but then stopped mid-step.
“And Lex?” he added.
She stopped breathing as she looked up at him and waited for his next words.
“You can always call me. For anything.”
Lexie watched him where he stood motionless, his face half in shadow, and nodded again, unable to answer. Her eyes jumped to the rearview mirror as he made his way back to his truck, and she tracked him while he climbed inside. When his lights flashed, she pulled slowly onto the roadway and headed toward her apartment.
And when her cell phone vibrated in the center console—Colt’s name lighting up the screen—for the first time ever, she ignored it.
Just show up.
That was Grandma Ruby’s big advice.
Show up. Be consistent. Be the better man.
Jake couldn’t see his knuckles, but he knew they were white against the steering wheel as he followed Lexie’s car down the dark road. Of all the things that might have happened, he’d never expected to catch her as she’d fallen to pieces like the world was ending.
But he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He was glad he hadn’t asked what was wrong. If she’d said it was Colt, he’d probably have done something he’d regret later.
Jake wasn’t a hot-tempered person. It took a lot to get him worked up, and yet somehow, just thinking about the way Colt had taken Lexie from the office—from her job, like he had the right to dictate her life—made Jake want to put a hole in a brick wall. Not to mention the fact that she’d let it happen. That part really got under his skin. How could she not see she deserved so much better? He shoved his hand back through his hair, wondering what Lexie was thinking in the vehicle in front of him. It had taken every ounce of willpower he’d possessed not to pull her forward and kiss her until she couldn’t remember her own name, much less why she’d been so upset in the first place.
And there was a tiny piece of him that thought, just for a second, that maybe she’d wanted him to.
He cranked up the radio, unwilling to let himself get sucked back into that daydream. She was someone else’s girlfriend, and he did have boundaries. Even if he sometimes wished he didn’t.
But one thing was now painfully clear, regardless.
He was in love with her. Not just intrigued by or interested in or curious about her, but totally, absolutely, irrefutably in love with her. The nameless feeling he’d been carrying for years was now a concrete certainty that had taken up residence in his chest and refused to leave.
Of course, he couldn’t tell her that, not while she was with Colt. So, he’d just have to say it some other way and hope she was listening.