I almost fall over again.
I forget how to breathe, heart thumping as I stare at the angel in front of me. Her chocolate-brown hair spills past her shoulders, framing a soft, heart-shaped face—too pretty to be real. She blinks up at me, wide doe eyes turning to caramel in the light, and something snaps in my chest.
Holy shit.
Her body is all curves—thick and plump—filling her jeans so deliciously that I feel my cock stir. I definitely shouldn’t be noticing. She’s too young. Early twenties. At forty-five, I’m old enough to know better, but my heart is twanging like a plucked string as I watch the girl’s pouty red lips fall open.
She looks intimidated.
Hell, I can’t blame her. I’m a lumbering giant of a man, inked and bearded, with a hunk of metal where my left leg should be. I’m the kind of guy people cross the street to avoid.
“Let me drive you to the hospital.”
The girl’s words catch me off guard. Now she can see I’m okay, I was expecting her to drive away as fast as possible. Instead, she steps toward me, her pretty brown eyes soft with concern.
“We have to get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” I say hoarsely.
“Please let me take you.” Her teeth gnaw anxiously on her bottom lip. “Even if you feel okay, there could be something wrong internally.”
Every instinct is screeching at me to get away right now. This beautiful stranger is doing things to me, making my blood thrum hot and fast in my veins. I should go home and forget this ever happened—forget I ever set eyes on this curvy little angel.
But I know she’s right about getting checked out.
Back when I was still a recruit, I was stationed with a guy called Alex. He was knocked down by an army truck on his way back to the barracks. Shrugged it off and walked away, then dropped dead a few hours later from a brain hemorrhage.
“I can drive myself,” I grunt. “My truck’s just over there.”
The girl is still biting her lip within an inch of its life, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes.
“It might not be safe for you to drive right now,” she says. “Please, it would mean so much if you’d let me get you to the hospital. I need to know you’re okay.”
Fuck, she’s so damn sweet.
My protests die in my throat as I look at her.
“Fine.”
The girl’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you.”
I follow her back to her car, spying a dent on the hood where it hit me. The box of pie I was carrying is crushed beneath one of her tires, leaking red goo onto the road. The girl winces when she sees it.
“Sorry about that. I owe you a cherry pie.”
I catch her eye over the roof of the car, and she blushes, ducking into the driver’s seat. But as I reach for the passenger-side door handle, my fingers freeze against the cold metal.
This is a bad idea.
There’s still time to turn around and leave this girl behind. Hell, I can literally see my damn truck from here, parked in front of the hardware store. I could make a beeline for it right now—drive away and never look back.
But then I meet her gaze through the window.
With an uncertain smile, she reaches across the seat to open the door for me, trusting me to get in. Trusting me to keep my word and let her drive me to the hospital. And just like that, my resolve crumbles.
I get in the car.
3
