Chapter One
Brooklyn
“No, no, no,” I say as the car I’m driving hits the world’s biggest pothole. The car jerks to the side; and before I can right it, I’m sitting in the ditch - car sideways.
“Shit.” I lean against the steering wheel. I was supposed to keep a low profile - stay under the radar. Crashing my rental car is the opposite of staying under the radar. Crashing my rental car is putting myself directly in the middle of the freaking radar.
I see a truck pull behind me. It’s a desolate road. I’m surprised anyone is driving by. I haven’t seen another car in an hour.
I watch in the rearview mirror as a man exits the truck and walks my direction.
At first I think I must be hallucinating.
There’s a glow of light behind him and the more he comes into focus, the more my insides start to tingle.
He’s tall and broad, and good god, his tight t-shirt can barely contain his biceps.
I roll down the window as he approaches my door, and I’m praying he doesn’t recognize me.
“You okay?” he asks as he leans down. His face is even more beautiful than his body which is saying a lot. Piercing eyes. Sharp jaw. Thick wavy hair.
He studies my face for a moment. Please don’t recognize me. Please don’t recognize me.
I don’t breathe. I also don’t answer. “Miss, are you okay?” he says, louder. His eyes narrow. He looks downright peeved.
We lock eyes. He doesn’t recognize me. Thank god.
The last thing I need right now is to be recognized.
It would ruin everything. Before I left, I dyed my normally blonde hair red; I even dyed my eyebrows to match.
I’m honestly shocked at how natural it looks.
I figured if Emma Stone could go from blonde to red, so could I.
God, why am I thinking about Emma Stone and hair color right now?
I need to answer this beautiful statue of a man peering into my window with beautiful, angry eyes.
“Miss?” He sounds extra annoyed now.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head.
“Did you hit your head?’ he asks.
“I don’t think so.” Honestly I can’t remember. I just realized the airbag deployed.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, opening my door.
I’m looking around.
“Your head.” He’s crouched down with the door open, so he can take a closer look at my head, and I can take a closer look at his biceps fighting against his t-shirt.
“Shit,” he says as he leans closer. Good Lord, he smells amazing...sandalwood and just a hint of something citrusy.
He leans in another inch. I’m holding my breath again. He’s so close now, I can feel his breath tickle my hair, and it sends shivers down my spine.
“You’re shaking. Are you in shock?” he says, worry flashes across his face.
Shock? Um. Something like that.
“No, I’m fine,” I say.
“Can you get out?” He extends his hand. I take it. As soon as our skin meets, goosebumps break out on my arms. God, I hope he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t seem one bit phased by my touch.
I step out of the car and squint in the harsh sunlight. My back is against the car, and he’s leaning in toward me to get a better look at my head.
“You’re going to have to see Paul,” he says, clucking his tongue.
“Paul?”
“The town doctor,” he says. Is there only one?
“Not a hospital?” I ask.
“Darling, you are hundreds of miles from a hospital. How did you end up here?”
“Long story,” I say and shift my eyes away.
“Well, I guess I’ll take you.” He steps back.
I hesitate. Should I go with this man? My brothers would kill me if they found out I just jumped into a truck with this random - albeit incredibly handsome stranger.
My brothers are, of course, already furious with me for running away, but that’s another story.
A long story. One there’s no time for at the moment.
“Don’t got all day, darling,” he says. Our eyes lock again.
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “Let me just grab my things.”
I turn to open the back door, but my hands are shaking so badly, I can’t.
“Step aside,” he grumbles.
“If I’m keeping you from being somewhere, just leave,” I say, surprising myself.
Normally I have endless patience. I’m an elementary school teacher.
I can keep my cool in a room full of wild second graders, but this guy has pissed me off.
Either rescue me or don’t. You don’t need to be pissy about it.
“I do have places to be.” He pulls the door open. “But I’m not going to leave you on the side of the road.”
Sorry to inconvenience you, sheesh.
“I didn’t ask you to be my knight in shining armor,” I huff.
“Good, because you’d be sorely disappointed, princess.”
I scoff.
“I’ll call someone. I don’t need your help,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Who are you going to call, princess?” He looks sideways at me.
“Don’t call me princess,” I seethe.
“Fine, you were the one who wanted a knight in shining armor.”
I pull out my phone. “I’ll handle this by myself.”
“Good luck. No cell service out here.”
“Damn it,” He’s right. No bars at all.
“You’re stuck with me.” He grabs my bag from the car. I shake out my hands and lean into the front seat and grab the keys, my phone, and my purse.
My head is starting to pound, and I touch my forehead, forgetting about my cut. I bring my fingers back in front of my face - covered in blood. I wobble a little at the sight of it.
“Easy there, Ginger,” he says, taking my arm. “I really don’t have time to peel you off the ground.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to regain my balance, and then I jerk my arm away. “I’ve got it.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” He’s holding his hands up in a surrender pose.
“I told you not to call me that,” I snap as I follow him to his truck and climb into the passenger seat. I close my eyes and pray he isn’t a serial killer while I buckle my seat belt. When I open my eyes again, he’s just staring at me.
“Were you just praying?” he asks, his head tilted to the side.
“Maybe,” I answer, looking straight ahead.
“About what?” He hasn’t started the car yet. He’s still staring at me like I’m a puzzle.
“Nothing,” I say pointedly.
“Tell me,” he commands. Shit, he’s not going anywhere until I do.
“I’m just praying you aren’t a serial killer,” I mumble quickly.
He doesn’t respond for a moment, and then he leans his head back and laughs loudly.
“You don’t have to make fun of me,” I say, still staring ahead. Asshole.
He continues to laugh.
“You’re being quite rude.”
He wipes his eyes. “Told you I was no knight in shining armor.”
“Clearly.”
He’s wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Are you ever taking me to this doctor, or should I walk?”
“Don’t want to walk on this road unless you want to be eaten by a moose,” he says.
“Moose don’t eat people.”
“You sure, Ginger?” he asks, arching his brow.
“Ginger?” I say, furrowing my brow.
He reaches his hand toward me, and I stop breathing. His hand grabs a piece of my hair and tosses it.
“You’re a ginger,” he says. Oh right, Emma Stone. I’m a redhead now.
I smile tightly.
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you take me to this doctor,” I say.
“And not murder you.”
“And not murder me,” I repeat, my face flushing.
“Only because you prayed; otherwise, you were a goner,” he chuckles.
I roll my eyes.
“You know, you really shouldn’t get into cars with strangers,” he says, as he pulls the car onto the road.
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll remember that next time.”
We drive in silence. I guess I was in shock earlier because my head is really pounding now, my entire body is sore, and the cut aches. I think I messed up my wrist too. Grumpy McGrumpFace looks over at me and flinches.
“Shit.” He steers the car to the side of the road and throws the car into park.
He unbuckles his seat belt, and I stop breathing again.
Why can’t I seem to breathe around this guy?
I can’t figure out what he’s doing and then I’m even more confused because he whips his shirt over his head and hands it to me.
What. The. Hell. I’m too stunned to move.
“Take it,” he growls.
I don’t budge.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he presses the shirt to my head. “Hold that in place.”
He grabs my hand and brings it to my head.
“Can you handle that, Ginger?”
I continue to stare, wide eyed.
“We need to stop the bleeding,” he says.
I just blink a few times and hold his shirt into place. He buckles his seatbelt again over his naked upper body.
Maybe I’ve died. Maybe I’m unconscious. That’s possible, right?
What other explanation could there be for what’s happening? Although if I was dreaming, I think I would have created a more pleasant man - personality wise. Physically though - holy hell, I couldn’t do any better than Grumpy over here.
“You’re looking kind of green, Ginger. You’re not going to throw up in my truck, are you?”
I shake my head.
“Good, I just cleaned it.”
“How charitable of you,” I say.
We enter a small town, and he pulls in front of a small building.
“Let me see if Paul is in,” he says, opening the door. “Don’t go anywhere, Ginger.”
“Don’t worry,” I say as I watch him run into the building shirtless. It’s a sight to behold. Heaven help me, it’s really warm in here all the sudden. I prop open the door.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
No time for dirty thoughts about my cranky, sexy rescuer. I’m in too much of a pickle right now to waste energy lusting after this man.
I have almost no money and no car. Good god, nothing about this is going right.
The car – it’s not mine. It was more or less borrowed, and I need to return it - in one piece.
I don’t have a lot of money with me. I’ve been taking little bits of money out of my account for months - trying not to attract any attention.
I hang my head in my hands. My brothers are going to kill me. I texted them that I was leaving, but they aren’t going to just accept it and move on. I know them too well for that.
So far no one has recognized me on this trip.
I should be one of the most recognizable people on the planet, but I’m good at blending in even when I should stand out.
My brother, James Sterling, is the President of the United States.
I stood behind him at his Inaugural ceremony while millions of people watched around the world, but I can still blend in.
I don’t seek out publicity like some of my other siblings.
I’m a teacher, and I live a quiet life. I attend functions at the White House, but I try to avoid the camera and stay to the sidelines.
I like my privacy. I like my anonymity. The only time I come out of my shell is with my family.
I get recognized from time to time, but it’s not every day.
The red hair helps. Did I mention I cut bangs too?
That was a real limb to climb out on, but I’m pleased to say I’m totally rocking them.
It completely changes my face though. I think the average person won’t recognize me - although they will find my face familiar.
Die-hard fans - and there are a lot of them out there — will recognize me.
There’s a subset of the population that believes my family is modern day American royalty and are obsessed - like make creepy dolls and cross stitch our faces onto pillows sort of obsessed - with all things Sterling.
Most of my siblings have it worse since they are more in the public eye, but a few of these crazy fans have latched onto me.
They like that I’m a bit mysterious. It allows them to project whatever they want onto me.
Anyway, I’m praying none of those people live in this town.
I’m praying I can pass without a second glance.
I’m on a mission, a mission I want - no, I need to do it alone.
I’m not going to let a few hiccups derail me and send me running to my brothers for help.
I look up to see my crabby knight in shining armor coming out of the building - shaking his head. He’s found a shirt though.
Too bad.
“He’s out on a call - won’t be back until this afternoon. I’m going to have to take you to Melvin,” he says as he climbs back in the truck. He throws the truck into reverse and backs out onto the road. The line between his brows has deepened, but I think the scowl is probably permanent.
“I thought you said there was just one doctor in town.”
“I did.”