I gave a soft snort and leaned back against the doorjamb. “I’d be more concerned about Ziggy than the chickens. Fertile Myrtle has a black belt inget the fuck out of my henhouse.Now keep talking.”
The man sighed. “When I realised the road dead ended, I was on my way back down when a dog ran in front of my car.”
I frowned. “A dog?”
He gave me a look and my cheeks burned. Because, yes, I was echoing his words... again.
“Anyway,” he continued, “a dogran across the road, in front of the car. I slammed on the brakes, and the car slid off the road, hit a tree, and careered down the bank. It came to a stop buried in a mountain of manure.”
Oh no. He surely didn’t mean—“Are you talking about my compost heap?” I asked. “Next to the machinery shed?” When he looked unsure, I added, “Big steel building, double doors.”
He hesitated, watching me carefully. “Are you going to hit me if I say, yes?”
I groaned. “God almighty. What kind of mess did you make?”
He visibly bristled. “It was kind of hard to tell in the middle of thestorm, and it wasn’t exactly high on my priority list. Did you forget the hitting-a-dog and accident part of all that? I wasn’t paying attention to the damned manure. I went looking to see if I could find the dog. That’s how I wound uphere. It started pissing down with rain, and I decided to shelter here until it passed. When it did, I’d intended to return to my car and call for a tow. Unfortunately, I fell asleep. It was Ziggy who woke me up, and you know the rest. End of story.” He blew out a heavy sigh and waited.
And okay, I may have started to feel a bit sorry for the guy.Ifhe was telling the truth, that was. “Did you get a good look at the dog?” I asked, thinking I was offering an olive branch of sorts.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’syour takeaway? The dog?” He blew a disappointed sigh. “It was black and white, or brown and white... I think. Mid-size. Maybe a beagle, or border collie, or spaniel, something like that. I can’t be sure on account of being a little shaken up afterrunning my car into a damn tree,”he finished loudly.
“A spaniel?” I faltered, my stupid mind racing.
The stranger eyed me darkly. “That’s one option. Now, could we wind this up so I can get out of your hair? My clothes are still wet, I stink to high heaven, and I’m frickin’ freezing.” He gave his damp suit coat a shake and the stink of manure rolled through the shed. “Jesus.” He grimaced, staring at the jacket. “Are you sure you haven’t got dead bodies buried in that pile of compost, cos that stuff is potent.”
I almost laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.” I shot him a look. “Although I’m beginning to see the appeal.”
He snorted and balled the jacket tightly. “I’m gonna have great pleasure in binning this. I hate suits, and my ex picked it out. Two excellent reasons to celebrate its early demise. Howlong will it take me to get a tow truck up here? Do you know you’re not actuallyonGoogle Maps?”
“I’m aware.” I smiled. “Truth is, I kind of like that. Keeps all the nosey buggers away.” I threw him a smirk. “Well, almost all of them.” A comment which earned me another roll of those beautiful eyes, and I suddenly remembered my manners. “Shit. I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Are you injured? Do you need me to call someone? Let me take a look at you.” I stepped closer, but he raised his hands to stop me.
“I’m fine,” he said evenly. “Just a few nicks from the rear windscreen exploding, and my chest aches from the airbag and belt, but that’s about it.” He peered down the front of his shirt and winced. “Yep. Bruised as shit.”
The rear windscreen?Goddammit.I’d behaved like a total arsehole.“I’m so sorry.” I softened my tone. “I should have led with that question when you first told me about the accident.”
He gave a wry smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I personally thought the whole manure-crisis spinoff had a certain charm to it.”
“Oh God,” I groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“’S fine,” he dismissed my apology. “I could have been anyone, right? Even a dognapper.”
I chuffed softly at the dig and then nodded to the briefcase on the floor. “Whatever’s in there must be important.”
His cheeks pinked. “Not really. Just an idea I’ve been working on. Not that it matters anymore. My job kind of imploded yesterday.”
I blinked. “Your job? Was that the emotional-crisis thing?”
“One of them.” He pulled a face. “And will you please stop repeating what I say? It’s getting creepy, like I’m in an echo chamber or something.”
“Sorry.” I grimaced. “Again.” I offered my hand. “I think maybe introductions are warranted. I’m Ryder Nelson.”
He took my hand between both of his, surprising me. “Thaddeus Grey. Everyone calls me Thad. Nice to meet you, Ryder.” His hands were cold to the touch, verging on freezing, but his grip was solid enough.
“Thaddeus, huh? Cool name.” I slipped my hand free but kept my gaze fixed on those tawny eyes. “Okay,Thaddeus. Let me recap. You lost your job. You lost your way. You crashed your car. You ruined your suit. You may or may not have hit a dog, and you spent the night in my shed with my attack chickens. Does that about cover it?”
Thaddeus wriggled his hand between us. “Almost.”
“There’s more?” I almost laughed, but something in those gorgeous eyes made me swallow it.
