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I nod, unable to utter more than a “Thank You” for fear it’ll come out in a tearful choke. I need time to pull myself together, so I croak out that I have one more thing to finish up. Thank God he leaves me for a few moments so I can recover, put away my work, and gather up my stuff.
On the way out, Brandon offers to give me a lift, but he’s headed to his daughter’s basketball game, so I fib and tell him I have a ride. I’m going to order a rideshare. See? That’s a ride, so it’s not a full-on fib. Also, Colby texted and offered to pick me up, so I have two options, though I turned him down too.
On the sidewalk, I’m opening the rideshare app on my phone when a white truck pulls up to an idle at the curb. The blacked-out window rolls down, and Colby sticks his head out. “Need a ride?”
My mouth hangs open as I stare up at him. Where did he come from?
“Tongue-tied? Yeah, I have that effect on people,” he snarks. Then he points at the passenger side door. “Hop in. Let’s get you out of the cold.”
“Um, okay. Thank you?” My thanks comes out as a question.
“You’re welcome?” he answers, matching my tone.
My cheeks flush with heat, and I duck my head as I climb into the passenger seat. Sporting a smirk, he eyes me while I buckle up. That look of his should irritate me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it makes the hoofbeats of my hopeful heart giddy up and gallop.
He pulls into traffic, and I fixate on his capable hands steering the truck—the same way they steer his boat.
His head swivels my way. “What?”
Busted! “I was just wondering where you came from. You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”
His steely grays drift to the rearview mirror. “Not exactly. I figured you might be getting off about now, and since you’re without wheels, I thought I’d take a chance and drive by.”
The statement both warms and alarms me. He’s already gone out of his way for me today. “You didn’t make a special trip, did you?”
Eyes glued to the road, he shakes his head. “Nope. I was already in the area.”
I’m not sure I believe him, but I’m grateful either way.
Traffic is heavy, and it takes a solid twenty minutes to cover the mile and a half to the condo building. He parks in a space not too far from mine and walks with me to my Jeep, where I sigh as I contemplate dealing with the flat. At least I have time this evening, and if Donny’s home, there’s a chance I can coax him into helping me.
As I advance on the tire, something looks off, and my brain takes a moment to calibrate. The tire is … full. I glance at Colby, who’s standing behind my Jeep with that same smirk on his face.
“Did you do this?” My voice reflects my incredulity.
Colby slides his hands into his jacket pockets. “I had some free time today.”
“But my car was locked. How did you do it?”
“Used my own jack. I didn’t need to get inside.”
Bending, I examine the tire closely and abruptly straighten. “It looks brand new!”
The man shrugs. “Your spare was useless. The rubber had deteriorated from being exposed to the sun for years.”
I dart to the back of the Jeep, where a brand-new black cover stretches over the spare. Emblazoned on it is the Carolina Surge logo. My eyelids blink furiously. “So you bought me a new tire and a cover? Wait. Is the spare new too?”
“Of course. What’s the point of keeping a crappy tire that would have blown out on you?”
My hand goes to my jutted-out hip. “So you bought and installed two new tires for me?”
His hand goes to the back of his head, and he smooths the short strands there. The smirk is replaced by a sheepish expression I find oddly adorable. “Seemed like the right thing to do. D-did I overstep?”
“No, but … I mean, this was your day off and—”
“It was this or do laundry or play video games, and I’m kinda sick of Rocket League.”
“I’m kind of sick of that one too,” I mutter.
