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“No,” I cut in. “I’ve got it covered.”
I climbed out of the truck, smoothing one hand through my hair. I wish I wasn’t so hungover right now. I wish I didn’t smell like burnt coffee.
“The receptionist said she called a tow truck for me,” Lou said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Didn’t tell me who it was though. You’re like a bad penny, Rooster. I got rid of you for years and now I can’t seem to shake you.”
My throat tightened when I caught a wisp of her delicate, peachy scent that always clung to her skin. It looked like she’d thrown on a pair of cowboy boots with her loose pale blue sleeping shorts. All I could think about was those long legs wrapped around my waist, hooking her knees over my shoulders…
“I’d say that’s a good thing, since you won’t be paying a dime for this tow.”
“Rooster,” she protested. “I can’t let you do that.”
Her words fell on deaf ears as I moved around to examine the truck.
“So what seems to be the prob—?”
I broke off when I saw the state of her tires. They looked like they’d melted into pools of rubber, each one sporting a gash several inches long.
I removed my sunglasses, slotted them into the collar of my shirt, and turned to face Lou. Her throat worked as she swallowed but she still held my gaze. I took a step closer, my eyes fixated on the strand of hair caught at the corner of her mouth.
“What’s going on, darlin’?” I asked softly. “I can tell when you’re hiding something and it’s written all over your face.”
Lou blinked and lowered her gaze, her eyelashes fanning dark against her tanned, freckled cheeks.
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered. “Don’t call medarlin’with that honey in your voice like I mean something to you.”
She could have kicked me in the stomach and it would have hurt less. My fingers itched to touch her, comfort her. I clenched my hand into a fist at my side.
“All right.” I tilted my head until I could look her in the eye. “What’s going on Louisa Pearl?”
Lou’s eyes flashed with her familiar old fire. Some things never changed.
“Don’t call me that either. You know I hate it when you use my middle name, you bastard.”
Feeling a little smug now that I’d managed to rile her up, I braced a hand on the side of her truck and leaned in. It wouldn’t take much effort to close the remaining few inches between us and kiss her cheek. The thought of my lips on her soft skin had my heart galloping against my ribs.
“Then tell me,” I said. “What the hell is going on with you? Those tires are slashed, Lou. And at the gas station yesterday, you were jumpy.”
I wrenched the tarp on her truck back, revealing her suitcases.
“Not to mention, it looks like you have damn near everything you own back here. Who are you runnin’ from, Lou? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Lou frowned, her lips pressed into a tight line as if she could swallow the truth instead of spill it. But she wasn’t going anywhere with her truck dead in the water. She could call another garage, probably six or seven hours away, which would cost her a pretty penny and a lot of precious time.
Then Lou rubbed her palms against her eyes and let out a shaky breath. I brought my hands up, ready to comfort her, ready to pull her into my chest.
But I stopped myself at the last second and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket instead. I waited as Lou composed herself. She crossed her arms and lifted her gaze to me with eyes full of worry.
“I married the wrong man, Rooster. That’s what happened.”
Chapter Four
Lou
I saw the moment when my words sank in for Rooster. Something in his eyes, something bright and hopeful and alive…withered, faded, fell apart. An apology burned on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it down. My unsaid words scorched my throat, my belly.
I had nothing to be sorry for, no matter how deeply I’d regretted my decision.
“What’s his name?” Rooster asked. His voice was scratchy and low, as if it pained him to speak.
