“Yes, that’s it.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I was starting to worry it didn’t exist. I couldn’t find it. The GPS wasn’t working. And then all the check engine lights came on in the car and it died on me.”
“Well, I can get you to Mrs. Presley.” I paused. “Do you have a bag or something?”
“Oh, right.” He reached for the door handle.
“Here.” I took my bright yellow rain hat off and handed it to him.
He smiled for the first time and it made my soul sing, along with other parts of me. Maybe Ishouldlock him in my cellar. Then he was out the door and I forced myself to shake off the silly thoughts.
Carter came back with a suitcase and sat with it on his lap. “Thank you for thinking of this. And for everything.”
“Happy to help out someone in need,” I said, which was true. The world needed more kindness.
“So, listen,” he said. “I’m in town for business for a while. Come have a drink with me later.”
The offer thrilled me, feeling like one of my earlier fantasies coming to life, but then reality immediately crashed down on me and the thrill faded. It was one thing to daydream about messing around with the mysterious stranger, but following through was a different story.
I didn’t date. The farm kept me busy most of the day, and after my folks sold off their farm to Allory, a lot of the people in town didn’t like our family anymore. It didn’t seem to matter I had nothing to do with it or that I had stayed. They all lumped me in with them, making me something of a local pariah.
I was rarely out and about, and I definitely didn’t go to the local watering hole, where everyone knew whose daughter I was.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, pulling up in front of Honeyrose House with perfect timing. This conversation had taken a turn and I was ready for it to be over.
Carter looked genuinely disappointed, but he nodded and got out of the van. He reached for my hat, still on his head.
“Keep it,” I told him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Then I drove away, hoping that I never saw Carter again.
CHAPTER 2
CARTER
The day after the rainstorm, I was at the mechanic’s shop, ready to blow a gasket like my engine had done the day before. My car had been towed here yesterday, but so far, my conversation with the nineteen-year-old kid running the place had not been productive.
“What do you mean, you can’t fix it?” I asked Tyler, which was what his nametag read. We were standing by my car, hood open. “You’re a mechanic, right?”
“Yeah, but I’ve never worked on a car like this. I don’t even know which tools I need for it.” He gazed down at my car. “I’d love to take it for a drive though. It’s a beautiful machine.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Get her running again and you’re welcome to take it for a spin.”
“I wish I could.” Tyler shrugged. “My boss might be able to fix her up. But he’s out of town, so you’ll have to wait.”
I wanted to scream in frustration but I doubted it would faze the kid. “Can’t you just read the manual or something?”
“Sir, the manual is in Italian.”
“Of course it is.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “What’s Italian for ‘fuck my life’?”
The kid seemed to think about it. “Mama mia?”
That got a chuckle out of me. “That’s close enough. Fine, do you guys have Uber out here?”
“I doubt it but you’re welcome to try,” he said.
“How about somewhere I can rent a car?”
The kid shook his head. “You’d have to drive about forty-five minutes to get to a rental place.”
