“Yeah. that’s the one.”
“No worries,” he replied, shoving the truck in gear and spinning it around.
For a couple of minutes, we drove in awkward silence. I was berating myself for thinking stupid things and getting ideas when he was just being nice.
“So, you staying long or just passing through?” he enquired, glancing over at me.
I looked at him and I mean, I really looked at him. He was gorgeous in a hardworking man way. His skin had been darkened by days spent under the blazing sun and wrinkles marred his forehead. His hair was too long and could use a cut but somehow it worked for him. But it was his hands that had me captivated. They were a working man's hands. With dirt under his nails and calluses that I imagined would never go away, his relaxed grip on the steering wheel gave him an air of authority.
“Not sure,” I answered, not wanting to talk about it.
The problem was I had no idea if I was here for a few days, a few weeks, or a few months. My future was a mess. It’s probably why I’d decided to go for a run in the first place, but like everything else in my life, that, too, ended in disaster.
We drove the rest of the way in stilted silence. My leg was throbbing, and my ankle felt like it was on fire, but my ego hurt the most. Not only had I managed to twist my ankle and fall on my ass, but the hottest guy I’d ever seen had to be the one to find me. With my bloody knee, tear-stained face, and clothes that I should never have borrowed from Georgia’s closet.
Cole turned onto the gravel driveway and we bumped down before pulling up at the house. I unclicked my belt and turned to thank him.
“Well, thanks for the ride Cole.”
“You’re welcome, Grace,” he replied, his manners impeccable and I just knew his mamma raised him right.
I reached for the handle and shoved open the door.
“Wait!” Cole burst out, reaching for my arm.
As soon as his hand landed on my forearm, a zap of something I didn’t recognize zipped through my body, and suddenly, it wasn’t only my leg that was throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” I started before realization hit me in the head like it should’ve been obvious. “Oh, I’m sorry. If you give me a minute to run inside and grab my purse, I’ll give you some cash.”
“I don't want your money,” he scoffed, sounding offended.
“You don’t?”
“Hell no,” he grumbled, rubbing his hands on his powerful, denim-clad thighs.
“Then …”
“Is that what you think? I gave you a ride and now you have to pay me?”
“Well, I mean …” I felt even more awkward now. “You went out of your way to help me, and I mean, gas isn’t cheap …”
“I can afford gas,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m just used to Uber.”
“You use Uber?”
“Of course. In the city everyone does,” I offered as a way of explaining.
“So you’re saying if you were in the city and you fell, you’d call an Uber?”
“Yeah?” It came out as more of a question. When Cole put it like that, it had me second-guessing things I wouldn’t have thought twice about before.
“What about your boyfriend?”
“What boyfriend?”
I couldn’t even remember the last guy I actually called a boyfriend. There’d been a few casual mistakes but no one noteworthy for years.
