I glance up as the rumble of a diesel engine hits my ears. The tow truck pulls in front of me and slowly backs up, stopping a good ten feet away.
Put a smile on your face.
I’ve been told I have a solid resting bitch face, and I need to remind myself to smile when I’m hoping someone else doesn’t treat me like crap. Not just any someone, but men. Women never care if I’m smiling or wearing a scowl, but any other facial expression seems to set most men on edge. Fragile egos.
I climb out of the car as the tow door opens, and a man steps out who looks big enough to block out the sun. “Ma’am,” he says in the deepest, gravelly voice.
I crane my neck upward, following his torso until I can get a good look at his face. “Sir,” I reply, always hating being called ma’am. I’m not old enough for that shit, but I’m more than willing to throw it back at them, hoping it rubs them the wrong way too.
The sunshine is almost blinding, and I have to shade my eyes with my hands to be able to focus on his face.
Damn. He’s a stunner. He looks like he hikeddown the mountain this morning after chopping a pile of wood and started a fire by rubbing two sticks together to keep warm while he sipped on his black coffee. My mouth instantly waters at the fullness of his lips, which are still visible even though his beard is thick and dark.
“Where’s the issue?”
I point toward the front passenger side, unable to move from behind my door. My eyes follow his movement, soaking in his hotness.
I hate winter clothes. I can’t tell what his body looks like underneath his heavy coat, and I sure as hell can’t see his ass because the coat is too long.
“That’s going to need a tow.”
I don’t dare mutterduh, but it’s on my lips. It’s why I called him. “Oh no,” I say, playing the stupid woman act, hoping it’ll get this entire ordeal over quicker.
“Why don’t you give me the keys and hop up in the truck to stay warm. No need for both of us to freeze to death.”
“Keys are in the car,” I tell him. “Lemme grab my things.” I bend over, reaching across the front seat to snag my purse and phone. I glance through the windshield, and our eyes lock.
The air rushes from my lungs as I soak in his piercing blue eyes. Is there anything about this man that isn’t good? Maybe he has nasty teeth, and it’llinstantly ruin any fantasy I’m building with him in my mind.
“Act normal,” I tell myself as I pull my upper body out of my car. “Don’t embarrass yourself, Lulu.”
I keep my eyes forward, not looking over at him as I start to walk toward the passenger side of the tow truck. I’m doing my best to walk and not fall in the snow when I hear the man yell, “Watch out.”
Suddenly, I’m tumbling into the snow with a heavy weight on top of me and the loudest crash I’d ever heard in my life ringing in my ears.
When I come to a stop, I’m on my back and looking up into the eyes of the hot, burly guy. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes searching mine as he breathes heavily, panic written all over his face.
“What happened?” I whisper, unable to speak any louder with the weight of his body crushing me, but I’m not about to complain. This is more action than I’ve had in months.
Our mouths are a few inches apart, so close I can feel his warm, minty breath against my face. “A car hit yours.”
I glance to the side where my car is—or, I should say, was. “Fuck,” I groan, slamming my head back into the snow, and squeeze my eyes shut.
If my day was bad before, it just got worse.
“Are you hurt?” the burly tow truck driver asks me again.
“I don’t think so.” But that doesn’t mean tomorrow I won’t feel the tumble I’ve just taken against my will deep down in my muscles.
“Fuck. That was close,” he mutters.
Then it hits me. I was standing right where the car must’ve sideswiped mine, missing his tow truck, but sending my car off into the woods on the side of the highway.
“You saved me,” I breathe, my fingers touching his jeans near his ass somewhere.
“I couldn’t let you die.”
“You could’ve,” I argue.
