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I’d have to call Bo. If the tailgating killer didn’t get me first.
Resigning myself to my fate, I turned, fake smile plastered on my face. Maybe this guy could be talked out of murdering me.
But my smile froze at what I saw. A man was walking toward me, alright. But this wasn’t a man out of my nightmares. This guy came straight from my fantasies.
He wore a black leather jacket and jeans with hiking boots. He’d parked halfway across the lot, but he had no concerns about the slippery ground beneath his feet. That was obvious in his confident walk. It communicated that he was bulky and strong and could tackle anything, including ice.
“We’re closed,” I said, lifting my phone so I could see the screen, but I didn’t look down at it. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him, no matter how hard I tried.
“Is that Bo’s truck?” the guy asked.
He pointed toward my brother’s pickup. This guy knew my brother’s name, so he couldn’t be a murderer…right? But I still had no idea who he was.
“Yes,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “How do you know my brother?”
The guy came to a stop in front of me. He was even better-looking up close. All hopes of ripping my gaze off him vanished. His smoky gray eyes and chiseled jaw, lightly covered in stubble, held an intriguing menacing quality.
But then he smiled. Those gray eyes sparkled, softening his expression considerably as he shifted his gaze toward the door.
“We first met here—a long, long time ago,” the guy said. “I’m a military recruiter. I tried my best to convince him to enlist, but instead, we became good friends.”
Now, I was the one who smiled. “You’d have to burn this place down to get my brother to leave Blackbear Bluff. Even if you burned it down, he’d rebuild.”
Burn it down? Maybe I shouldn’t give this guy any ideas. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wasn’t here to kill me.
“He would’ve been a great soldier,” the guy said. “I gave it my best try.” He glanced at the door again. “So, let’s give this door a knock and see what happens. It’s cold out here.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could get a word out, he was banging on the door. He then paused to press his face to the glass, hands on either side to block the reflection, as he scanned the interior.
“Bo?” he called out, resuming his knocking. “It’s cold out here. Open up. You in there?”
“He’s not.” I held up my phone. “He just responded to my text. He’s stuck at his house halfway up the mountain.”
The guy turned his body toward me, staring me down. “What’s his truck doing here?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been off at school. I assume they left in his fiancée’s car.”
“Let’s go,” the guy said. “You can ride with me.”
He was already starting toward his truck. Was he kidding? He thought I’d just get in the car with him?
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To get your brother.”
“In that?”
I gestured toward the pickup. It couldn’t possibly hold all three of us. Not comfortably, anyway.
The guy paused, his stare landing solidly on my SUV. “You’re right. Your vehicle will do better. I saw how it handled those curves coming off the interstate.”
“Yeah, about that.”
But he was already walking toward my SUV. I’d have to table my lecture about his tailgating.
He stopped and turned to look at me. “Are you going to unlock this or have us stand out here and freeze all day?”
I still stalled. My keys felt heavy in my coat pocket. He was standing at the driver’s-side door, which hinted that he planned to drive my vehicle. Why did he think I’d just trust him with my most valuable possession? Especially the way I’d just witnessed him driving.
