I laugh, short and bitter. “It’s a long story. Not one I feel like telling in the middle of Main Street.” I gesture vaguely toward the growing crowd of nosy small-town onlookers. “You know how people love a good story around here.”
“Perfect. Just fucking perfect,” she mutters, brushing past me to inspect the damage to her car.
I take the opportunity to really look at her. She’s different, but not in a bad way. Still beautiful in that effortless, I woke up like this kind of way. But there’s something harder about her now, an edge that wasn’t there before. Like life threw a few punches and she didn’t have time to duck.
I know the feeling.
She crouches to examine her bumper, frowning at the dent, and I lean down slightly, still watching her.
“We can just exchange information,” I say casually, knowing full well that the last thing I need is Malerick, the shiny new sheriff in town, who also happens to be my oldest brother, showing up to make this worse.
“No,” she snaps. “We’re calling the police. I don’t know if my insurance will cover this without a report.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s just a dent. Your deductible will skyrocket. Let’s keep it simple.” My tone drops, low enough so only she can hear. “Just give me your name and number before you run away.Again.”
Her head whips around, eyes narrowing into slits. “I don’t run away.”
“Yeah?” I lean closer, letting my voice dip. “Because I remember differently. You left without a word, like some kind of coward.”
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, and she straightens, brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. “I’m sure you can pay for your own damage.”
The bite in her tone catches me off guard. This isn’t just about a fender bender. There’s something else here, something . . . What the fuck did I do to her?
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Did I offend you? It’s not like I left you expecting a great week only to disappear without a trace.”
Her nostrils flare again, and for a moment, I think she might throw a punch. “That wasn’t me,” she huffs, her words clipped.
“Sure,” I drawl, stepping closer. “So did I piss off the universe in a past life to deserve this much hostility? Are you now pretending you’ve never seen me?”
She crosses her arms, refusing to look at me. “No idea who you are.”
“Liar.” I mouth the word slowly, and her jaw tightens, her eyes flicking up to meet mine.
“Funny,” I continue, my voice dropping. “Because I could’ve sworn we met before. Italy, maybe?”
Her eyes snap wide, recognition flashing across her face for a split second before she masks it with a glare. “You must have me confused with someone else,” she says, her voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.
“Uh-huh,” I say, smirking. “Sure. Someone else who rear-ended me and can’t stop looking at me like I stole her lunch money.”
She doesn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders gives her away.
I should let it go. Walk away and pretend this never happened. My life’s already a dumpster fire—I don’t need to add a fiery woman with a chip on her shoulder into the mix.
But I need her information. And maybe, just maybe, an explanation.
“You can leave after you give me your name and number,” I insist, leaning in just enough to unsettle her.
“And if I don’t?”
I glance around at the gathered crowd, then lower my voice. “Then the town’s going to know about that freckle on your left tit, baby.”
Her mouth drops open, a mix of outrage and disbelief flashing across her face. Without a word, she yanks a notebook from her bag and scribbles down her information, thrusting it at me.
“Well, Galeana Monroe,” I say, smirking as I read the name on the paper. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I tuck the paper into my pocket and give her my most insufferable grin. “I’ll call to let you know how much the damage is.”
“Whatever,” she mutters, her tone dripping with irritation.
But just as I’m about to step back, an idea strikes. What if this so-called Galeana Monroe is playing me? This three-oh-three area code could belong to anyone—a random stranger, a pizza place in Canada, maybe even a hotline for dating advice. Fool me once? Not happening.
