My teeth chatter as I lose the battle against the cold air seeping through my clothes. “I’m not a stray cat you can lure back to your house with the promise of treats.”
“I don’t remember offering you any treats, but if it helps, I have heat and running water.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.“I could throw in somethingrealspecial—like electricity, too.”
I bite the inside of my cheek in a paltry attempt to stifle a grin. He makes it so difficult to stay mad at him. “Seriously, Jax. I can’t impose on you like that.”
“If my mama found out I left you sitting out here in the cold, she’d threaten to tan my hide and come down here herself.”
The promise of warmth and modern convenience is enough to break through my stubborn exterior. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. It has absolutely nothing to do with his charm or his stupidly handsome face. As much as I want to exert my independence, I can’t bring myself to turn him down.
“Fine.”
He closes the door, looking like a cat that got the canary, and walks across the street to where he parked his truck.
Jax pulls his powder blue Chevy onto the road, and I follow close behind. Somewhere on the outskirts of Oak Ridge, my shitty little hatchback decides it’s done playing nice, and smoke starts billowing from beneath the hood, clouding my vision. I honk for Jaxon to stop as I pull onto the shoulder.
They say when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade, but what do you do if life is just lobbing rotten ones at your head over and over again?
I rest my forehead on my arms against the steering wheel and release a sound somewhere between a screech and a wail.Out of the corner of my eyes, Jaxon’s taillights coming into view as he pulls up ahead of me and gets out of his truck. I roll down my window and turn my head to the side.
I scrunch my nose. “You still interested in rescuing a damsel in distress?”
One side of his mouth tips up into the crooked grin I’ve tried not to notice. In spite of myself, I can’t help the warmth that spreads throughout my entire body.
“Maybe,” he says. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll forgive the overdue fees for that fantasy book you borrowed last month.”
“You drive a hard bargain, but I accept.”
He tugs open my door, and before I can register what’s happening, he scoops me up bridal style and carries me to his truck. I cling to his neck, certain he’s going to drop me.
He doesn’t so much as flinch.
I pat his shoulder. “Put me down. I need to get my stuff.”
“I already called a tow. They’re on their way here now. Your stuff will be right behind you.”
“When did you have time to call a tow?”
“Sometime between when your car started smoking and when you started screaming like a banshee.”
“I did not scream like a banshee.”
“You did,” he says. “But you’re a very cute banshee.”
He sets me on my feet near the passenger side door and holds it open for me. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”
“Good to know chivalry isn’t dead, at least.”
I slide into the passenger seat and buckle in. Jaxon turns on the radio and pulls back onto the road, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to an old nineties power ballad.
A short while later, the headlights pan across the ranchgate as we pull onto the property. I’m probably one of the very few people who’s never been to Whispering Oaks Ranch. Every year, I say I’ll come to the annual fall festival, and every year, something comes up. This year, I’d planned to accompany Mo, but my entire life went up in flames—literally.
We pull up to a large A-frame cabin with a wide porch stretching around the front and two of those tall rocking chairs placed perfectly side by side like they’re waiting for some old couple to sit down with their morning coffee and talk about the good old days.
Everything about this feels a bit like a study in humiliation. I don’t like asking for help, and I like sitting with the discomfort of accepting it even less.
The reality of my situation becomes more potent the longer I stare at Jaxon’s perfect storybook home. I’m an interloper. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere. I haven’t for a very long time.
