AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Double shit.
I couldn’t call Mom; she was drugged up on pain meds, and it wasn’t like she could come for me anyway. And Cheryl…Cheryl had to go to work in forty minutes.
Shit double shit.
I pulled up Google and searched for a local auto shop. I needed someone who could get here fast—faster than AAA. Christmas could get here before AAA sent a tow truck.
TLC Auto Body.The first name that came up was the only name in a thirty-mile radius.
I tapped on the number, and it rang. And rang. And went to voicemail.
“Hi, my name is Reese Barker. I’m not sure if you can help me, but I was driving into Jackson from the airport, and the temperature gauge in my Jeep went up to the red line. I pulled over and popped the hood. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I smell something sweet. I’m at the third pull-off directly after the entrance to the park. If you could call me back on this number, that would be great.”
I ended the voicemail and dropped my head back with a long groan.
All the shits.
I walked around to the other side of the engine, but still didn’t see anything. Next, I crouched, scanning underneath for anything that looked off. Still nothing.
Had someone put the wrong kind of gas in the Jeep?Maybe whoever rented the car last had filled it with the cheap stuff, and now it was causing engine trouble.
Who was I kidding? I had no freaking clue. If this were a person—a body—I could diagnose the problem easily. I could triage, perform surgery, and repair the person back to health. But this was a car. And while the nuts and bolts of an engine might be more predictable than the anatomy of a human, it was still out of my wheelhouse.
No pun intended.
I rounded back to the front of the engine and got another strong whiff of something sweet.
There was still nothing coming through on my phone, so Iopened up another search and typed insweet smell from engine.The only man I could count on for reliable answers was Mr. Google.
Coolant.
The Jeep was leaking coolant.
Before I could even process what that meant—except for the fact that despite its name, this wasn’t cool at all—a newer Bronco turned into the pullout and parked in front of me.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, watching the SUV shut off and the driver’s door open. If this was some creeper trying to “help” me in the way that all serial killers in movies tried to do, he was going to be in for a rude awakening.
The driver got out and faced me.
Oh my.
He might be a creeper…but he was the handsomest creeper I’d ever seen.
Muscled chest, tapered waist, and a mop of warm brown hair.The license plate said Wyoming, but it was his attire that gave him away as a local. Distressed jeans, worn tee, and muddied boots were the standard cowboy attire for these parts.
“Are you alright?” His tone oozed concern.
“Fine, thanks.” I brushed off the handsome stranger. I needed help, but I’d figure it out on my own terms.
His brow furrowed. “Okay.” His eyes swung to the open hood and then back to me. “But didn’t you just call because you’re having car trouble?”
My jaw dropped. “How did you know that?” I folded my arms defensively.
“Shit. Sorry.” Handsome creeper dragged his fingers through his hair, tousling the waves and only adding to his attractiveness. “I’m usually out in my work truck”—he wiped his hand on his jeans and then extended it—“I’m Decker Conolly. I own TLC Auto Body, and I just got your voicemail.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. “Then yeah. I think it’s leaking coolant.”
He stepped up to the engine bay and took a good whiff. “Oh yeah. That’s definitely coolant you’re smelling.” He reached in with surgical precision and opened up one of the many caps, tipping forward to peer into the container. “Damn. It’s almost completely out. It was a good thing you pulled over when you did. Another mile or two, and the engine would’ve seized.”
