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Know each other? Oh, yeah. We knew each other, all right. Once upon a time, this woman knew me better than I knew myself, and vice versa. But now? Not so much.
Laney’s hand shook as she reached up to adjust the bill of her hat, and it suddenly occurred to me that she was shaken up as all get out. And of course she was. She’d just careened off the side of the road, narrowly missing the deer that was now chillin’ in the grass like nothing had happened.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, snapping out of my idiocy and opening her door. “Come on, let’s get you outta there.”
When she made no move to exit the car, I reached down and unbuckled her seat belt, her familiar scent of honey and vanilla making my stomach clench. I took her hands and eased her out of the car, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. It was either that or pull her into my arms.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
I nodded in reply, vaguely aware that her companion was getting out and mumbling about how she was fine too, thanks.
“Lemme take a look here.” I moved to the front of the car and stooped down to assess the damage. “Ah, yeah, your front end’s toast. I reckon the undercarriage is damaged too. You ran over a few of these big ones.”
I stood and kicked a massive rock for emphasis, and she stared down at it with a blank expression. “Lovely.”
“You sure y’all are alright?” I asked, looking them both over more carefully.
Laney nodded slightly, not meeting my eyes, but her dark-haired friend let out a breathy laugh. “I think so. And shoot, it’s perfect you were right behind us in a tow truck, huh?”
“So perfect,” Laney whispered.
“Who are you, by the way?” her friend asked me, putting her hands on her hips over her jeans. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ah, sorry. I’m Everett. Everett Wilson.” I stuck my hand out, then realized it was grimy from work and gestured as much to her before digging out a shop cloth to wipe it off.
Hopefully I hadn’t sullied Laney’s hands when I’d helped her out of the car. She looked way too crisp and clean in her white shirt, jean shorts, and blinged-out cowboy boots. Who wore that kind of thing on a road trip? Oh, a famous country singer, I guessed.
I didn’t know what kind of reaction I expected at the sound of my name, but Laney’s passenger just gave me a friendly smile with no hint of recognition there. Whoever this woman was, they must not be close. She’d know my name if they were, right?
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Paisley Stevens, Laney’s manager and best friend.”
Best friend, huh? I remembered then that she’d said her name earlier, but I’d been a little rattled at the time. “Pleasure’s mine.”
Paisley lifted a hand and gestured between Laney and me with one perfectly manicured finger. “How do y’all know each other?”
“We’re old friends,” Laney said quickly, flaring her eyes at me.
I got the message, painful as it was. “Yep. That.”
Her eyes finally met mine, nothing but fear in them. Fear of what, I wasn’t sure, but it made me feel like the dirt under my boots.
“How’ve you been?” she asked after a long, awkward moment.
“Great. Never better. Livin’ in high cotton,” I answered dryly.
Her lips tightened into a thin line. “Glad to hear it.”
“You?”
“Same. Livin’ the dream.” She glanced over at the car and winced.
“Good,” I replied, looking back at my own vehicle. “Well, give me a few minutes to load this pretty pink ride onto the truck, then I’ll see where we can work it into the schedule.”
“What, no friends-and-family slot at the front of the line?” Paisley asked, making Laney cringe.
I smirked. “Round here, everyone’s friends or family.”
“Right,” she said with an impatient nod. “How about a rush fee? Could Laney pay you to make it a priority? We won’t be in town long, and she’ll need a car.”
