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“If there’s a hole that could open up and swallow me, I’d be very happy right about now.”
“That makes two of us,” he says. He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his beard. “I don’t have time to wait here with you for Ben, the mechanic, to come and check out your car. How about if you ride in my truck with us while I drop her off at school and then we can go to the auto body shop together and see about getting your car towed.”
There’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes, and it’s gone so fast I’m not sure I actually saw it.
I hesitate. “I guess that works.”
He’s a complete stranger and I’m not sure this is a good idea.
“I mean, if that doesn’t work for you, I could always leave you here and you could find Ben yourself. Up to you.” He turns to walk away.
Wow. “I don’t have another option at this point,” I spit out. Who does he think he is, talking to me like this?
“Didn’t think so,” he says as he turns to walk away again.
I poke my head out the window, yelling at his retreating back. “Can I at least get your name before I get into your truck? You could be a serial killer or something.”
“Seriously?” He mutters. He walks back to my car. “First of all, I’m not a serial killer. Second, I’m doing you a favor, which I don’t have to do. Third, my name is Brent Harrison and the little one in my truck is Nora. Now, can we go?”
“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“Eventually, yes. Right now I’d just like to get going.”
“I’d like to tell you my name first before we leave,” I say.
“Of course you would. Okay, what’s your name then?” His blue eyes glare at me. I think Brent would definitely leave me here if he could, and to be honest, I’m surprised he doesn’t.
“I thought you’d never ask. I’m Penelope Smith. Nice to meet you, Brent.”
“You too. Now, let’s go.”
I want to tell him my real last name, but something holds me back. Maybe no one here will know who I am, and I can crumble in peace. No one has recognized me so far.
“Be right behind you. I just need to grab my purse and put up the windows,” I say as I try to hide the blush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks. Instantly, I’m nervous to get out of my car in case there are paparazzi standing on the sidewalk, waiting to snap my photo and make up some story about me.
I open my car door and take a look around, but I don’t see anyone with a camera. I try to stop my racing heart before I step onto the street. I’m not used to being without my security team. It feels strange. Turning toward Brent, I can’t stop myself from staring at him as he walks away.
I’m nursing a broken heart, which means I’m vulnerable and shouldnotbe checking out another man.
“I forgot to ask if you have any luggage or anything,” he asks over his shoulder.
Oh man. Do I have luggage.
“Actually, there are a few things in my trunk,” I say as confidently as possible.
“Figured.” He grunts and jerks a thumb toward the trunk. “Open up.” He reaches in and grabs my bags.
Wow, that’s nice. I open the trunk and he grabs my very expensive bags out. It crosses my mind that I hope he’s gentle with them before mentally slapping myself because this handsome man is literally saving my ass right now.
“Wow, did you pack a whole house?” He grumbles as he walks toward his truck.
I round to the passenger side of my car and grab my black purse that spilled onto the floor. Gathering up my things, I glance at myself in the mirror one more time before slowly putting my windows up.
I lock my car and head toward Brent’s truck, so I don’t continue to make Nora late for school. I don’t care how small this town is, living in NYC for so long, I don’t trust anyone.
As I approach Brent’s truck, I see Nora whisper something into her dad’s ear, and I feel like running back to Manhattan. Who needs a car anyway?
I open the door and I’m immediately hit with the smell of leather mixed with cologne and hairspray. Nora scoots to the middle of the seat, leaving room for me.
