Page 16 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

I’d make a mess of this kind of precision work, and I could tell someone had dumped a ton of money into this car. This Cadillac had all the modern touches to the interior and the engine was top of the line. When I’d unloaded it off the tow truck last night, I hadn’t been able to resist a look under the hood.

The engine was almost as sexy as the woman at my side.

Almost.

“I don’t know what this car looked like in the before picture, but I’m guessing it was a complete rebuild, right?”

“Yes. I had it restored a couple of years ago.”

“Had to have been expensive.”

“It wasn’t cheap, let’s just say that.”

I chuckled. “Figured as much.”

“What do I do? I’d really like to avoid having to go back to Boston to get it fixed. And I can’t take it to California as it is. Shit.” Before I could help, she started pacing, running her hands through the ponytail that hung over one shoulder. “I should have stayed on the interstate.”

“Why’d you get off?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I was tired of being on that road.”

I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about the pavement.

“The interstate is overrated.” I looked down at her, studying the color of her eyes.

They were a rich green close to the shade of a dark jade ring my sister had bought on a visit to Asia last year. Though Londyn’s eyes were far more beautiful and unique than that simple stone. I suspected a lot about her story was one of a kind.

“I’ve got a good friend who owns a body shop in town. He’s good. He can get the dents worked out and the paint redone on this side. He’s usually booked out months, but he owes me a favor because I rebuilt an engine for him last year. I’ll call it in.”

“Thank you.” She blew out a long breath. “How long?”

“Three or four days. That going to be a problem?”

“No, I guess not.” She turned to the open door of the garage, looking past the large sycamore that towered over the parking lot. “I guess I’ll have some time to explore Summers.”

“It’s a nice town. There are likely worse place

s to be stranded.”

“Probably.” She smiled. “I walked over this morning and from the bit I’ve seen, it does seem nice.”

“The diner has the best pie in West Virginia.”

“Is that right?” She raised an eyebrow. “I guess I’ll have to try it out.”

“Their cheeseburgers aren’t bad either.”

“Good to know. So you’ll call me?”

I nodded, then dug into my jeans pocket to retrieve a small black flip phone. “Here.”

She eyed it. “What’s that?”

“A cheap phone from Walmart.”

Her eyes snapped to mine and as they caught the overhead light, flecks of caramel glinted in the center starburst. Beautiful, like everything else about this mysterious woman.

“Here.” I held it out.