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He reaches into the truck and pulls out my bag. Such a stark difference from city life. Back in New York Citymaybea passerby would have done something to help me out, but I wouldn’t be having this conversation with them. If anything, I’d be talking to a cop now who wouldn’t be interested in my life whatsoever.
“Right on all accounts,” I say, doing my best to get my heartrate under control. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”
Lyle laughs. “Nah, just maybe a bit smarter than your average bear. I do want you to know that not all the men in Tangerine are like these perverts here. Okay?”
“I sure hope not,” I reply. “Because this is where I’m staying for the foreseeable future.”
“Where are you staying?” he asks, pointing to a car that I hadn’t noticed until now parked on the side of the road, which must be his. “I’ll give you a lift.”
“Pine Tree Motel—”
“Nope. Mmm-mmm.” Lyle shakes his head, and still holding my bag, takes my hand in his, leads me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me.
I feel like ever since I stepped off the bus I’ve been nothing more than a leaf being swept along the rapids of a rushing river. I had it all planned out – my picturesque town, my motel, a brand-new start to my life, and now apparently none of that is going to go according to plan.
“What do you mean ‘nope’?” I ask him.
“Well, do you like being surrounded by junkies, thieves, and drug dealers?” A shiver runs through me. Whatever happened to the heavenly little town I found on Google?
“Not…particularly…”
“Well, that’s what you’ll find at Pine Tree Motel,” he replies. “So hop in the car. I’ve got a studio apartment above our garage we’ve been meaning to rent out and haven’t gotten around to. You can stay there until you find an apartment. Cool?”
After what just happened to me, and those three men being my first introduction to Tangerine Forks, I really shouldn’t even be considering Lyle’s offer. This could all just be one big plan to get me off the road and back to his place where he can do whatever he wants to me.
But then again, would that really be that terrible? I mean,lookat the man. My heart is still racing, and I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s from the aftereffects of the attack.
He’s unbelievably handsome, but that’s not all. There’s something calming and comforting about him as well. I feel safe around him. But there’s something Idon’tunderstand, and that’s why I feel something familiar about him already, and we only just met.
“Okay,” I smile. “Cool.”
Lyle’s eyes brighten, and he waits for me to get in the car before closing the door behind me like a valet. He puts my bag in the back and gets in the driver’s seat and pulls away. I think I see one of the men whose butts he kicked getting up in the rearview as we’re a ways down the road. Am I a total bitch for wishing all three of them would just stay down forever?
“So what brings you to Tangerine?” Lyle asks me. God, his voice issosmooth. He could make a fortune reading audiobooks.
I would never share my story with a random stranger, but he did just totally save my butt, and I feel so incredibly safe around him already that before I know what I’m doing, I’m spilling my guts to him.
“My mom got hit by a car when I was thirteen. We didn’t have money for long-term hospital care, so I basically became her nurse until she passed away a few months later.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lyle says, looking like he means it.
“Dad, instead of helping, spent all his free time at the bar and turned into this massive manipulative asshole and like emotional abuser. So to get away from him, I got fake IDs and started working as many jobs as I could.”
“All while going to school?”
I nod. “My mom really cared about my education, so I made sure I graduated. Then, I found Tangerine Forks on Google Maps, bought a bus ticket, packed a bag…and the rest is history.”
“Good for you.” He smiles. “That must have taken a lot of guts.”
By the way Lyle’s looking at me, I can’t tell whether he’s actually admiring me for sticking it out or if just feels bad for me. But either way, I can feel myself blushing. I mean, he’ssohandsome,soobviously confident in himself, with such a strong jaw and such full lips and hair that blows perfectly in the breeze.This guy must get all the girls.
It doesn’t take us long to reach Lyle’s house. We make that sort of polite but meaningless conversation for the drive, and I pray that I’m not coming off like a total moron, because I am feeling so anxious around him that I really have no idea what I’m saying.
By the time we’re pulling into his driveway, I’m a hot mess and can barely even remember what I’m doing here.
“It’s up there.” He points to two windows above a white garage. “I’ll show you up.”
I’m about to protest and tell him that’s fine and that he doesn’t have to take me up himself and that I can figure it out on my own, but he’s already opening the side door to the garage and heading up the stairs before I can. So I just follow him on in and up to the apartment.
