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And his arms, oh darling, they deserved their own epic poem. I oogled them as he put on his cowboy hat. Firm tattooed biceps, taut forearms… I felt an overwhelming urge to run into them.
Then I remembered that even hot guys can be murderers, kidnappers and ne’er-do-wells.
Hotness is no indicator of moral goodness, I reminded myself, reciting something I’d learn in psych class about humans’ disposition to trust people that were conventionally attractive – an unfortunate, hardwired failing. Sure, he was handsome beyond all reason, but I couldn’t let that distract me. My survival was still on the line.
And besides, a guy this sexy should be in LA or NYC, acting in blockbusters or headlining major modeling campaigns. What the hell was he doing out here? It was just suspicious. I crossed my arms over my chest and planted my feet into the ground.
“Howdy, ladies,” he called out as he slammed the door of his truck, a thick Texas twang curling through his voice.
I wasted no time. “Who the hell are you?”
He grinned.
CHAPTER 4
Carter
LISTEN, MY Gran raised me right. I know that you ain’t supposed to look at a lady too long, because a gentleman averts his eyes.
But I couldn’t rip my gaze away from the girl in front of me. Or, technically, not the girl right in front of me. Rather, she was positioned a few feet behind her blonde friend, leaning up against the side of the wrecked car, looking as skittish as a caged coyote. The blonde was who a man was supposed to want — bombshell, generous, uh, assets, and thick, kissable lips.
The brunette, though… she was magic. A world of wonder in a slim frame. Even in stillness, you could see that she’d be a fantastic dancer, melodic and sweet. Her hair hung down in sheets around her head, and from her heart-shaped face piercing brown eyes shone out beneath dark, thick brows. The eyes, framed with thick brown lashes, bore into me, questioning and prodding.
You’ve sworn off women, I reminded myself. Even ones this beautiful. For the first time in six years, I felt a pang of regret at my vow of celibacy, but then remembered that the vow was for moments like this one. Because I’d been lulled into complacency by a beautiful woman before, and I knew how that worked out — the whole thing went up in flames.
The girl — or rather, woman — looked as though she knew all my secrets, and might well spill them whenever she saw fit. On the edge of my attraction was a cutting alloy of deep-set fear.
“Our car is broken.”
I reluctantly tore my gaze from the brunette and focused on the blonde who’d just addressed me. It didn’t take a hunter to understand that, in this little pack, she was the one who spoke up, who took the lead.
My eyes drifted back to the brunette, who was more my type, and a moment passed. I had to remind myself that her friend’s statement required an answer.
I cleared my throat. “Right, yeah. I heard. I’m from the auto shop in town. I’m here to take a look.”
“But we didn’t call for anyone,” the brunette said, her words slipping in between the gaps of me and the blonde’s conversation. Her voice was low, her tone fierce. She was a flame in a bottle, a wild thing inside a sleek container.
I raced to explain myself, words tripping over themselves. “My boss — Big Bob — was driving by and saw ya’ll had hit this here sign. He got back and asked me to come out and take a look. And that’s about the whole story.”
He also mentioned that you were smokin’ hot, I thought, but it was best to leave that out. Besides, I was sure he’d meant the blonde. Typical ignorant man that he was, he’d probably missed the brunette entirely.
“Why didn’t he stop?” the brunette questioned.
“Because he’s a piece of shit,” I explained. Probably shouldn’t have said as much, but I didn’t feel like lying to her.
The brunette nodded, and I knew I had the go ahead. “Can I take a look at your car?”
“Be our guest,” the blonde replied.
I strode over to the engine, and the girls split away from the car. The brunette’s arm grazed me as she took stepped back, and I felt electricity travel up my arm, a current that zapped my brain the way a dog’s fur can sense the electrical change in the air before a thunderstorm.
Do your job, I instructed myself. If you look too long, you’ll forget yourself.
With that in mind, I tipped back my cowboy hat and leaned over the engine, inspecting its smoldering and compacted remains.
The blonde began to explain. “We’re just on the last leg of our road trip. We were driving from Connecticut to out here, the West Coast, to give my little cousin the car.”
