The truck slows as it approaches. I’m curious, and I raise up a smile to greet the man inside. As I do, though, the truck turns like he’s driving off the road. The vehicle rolls directly toward me as it coughs out a deep, roaring rumble.
I step backward, startled, and my foot lands on a rock. With a stumble and a yelp, I fall into the ditch, flinging the basket of flowers in the air on my way down.
I groan, now wet in the dirty puddle. Pain throbs where I crashed on my butt, and my hands sting. Heart pounding, I scramble to my feet.
“Hey? You down there?”
The stranger appears at the top of the ditch, the sun behind him so I can’t see his face. He’s tall and broad, almost hulking, and dressed in jeans and a dark blue flannel.
“There you are,” he says coolly.
I scramble up the side of the ditch, keeping a good distance from him in case he has bad intentions.
“I have permission to be here,” I say quickly. “And there are people who expect me back very soon! They know where I am.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You hurt?”
When he doesn’t make any moves to murder me, I shake my head. “Not seriously. It just startled me when you drove your truck at me.”
“I didn’t drive my truck at you. I was pulling over to ask for directions,” the man says. His voice is steady and low, like the motor he’s left running behind him.
He should have kept his vehicle on the road, but I’m not here to argue. I’m mainly just relieved to know I’m not in danger, and maybe slightly embarrassed that I yelped my butt into a ditch in front of this burly stranger. “A misunderstanding, then,” I tell him.
After an awkward second, the man plunges a fist into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he mumbles.
I relax a little more at the apology. It’s hard to imagine how anyone could have ill intentions on a morning like this, truthfully.
I bend to start collecting flowers, at least some of which appear unharmed. “Apology accepted,” I say, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.
He grunts and bends down, grabbing a handful of flowers. “About those directions,” he says, but I don’t let him finish.
“Careful!” I blurt out. I see that he’s crushing the stems as he gathers them, roughly knocking the heads together. It’s painful enough to see flowers harmed, but this is like cash that I can’t afford to lose burning before my eyes. I’ll barely pay for the gas out here at this rate.
I abruptly snatch the flowers from his hand and step back. “Please just let me,” I say, flustered.
The man frowns. “Fine. I shouldn’t have stopped in the first place.”
Noting that he is trying to help, despite the seemingly permanent furrow to his brow, I try another smile. “If you wouldn’t mind handing me that other basket, please? And you can tell me where you’re trying to go.”
He bends, hitching his jeans up at the thighs as he lowers himself into a slight squat, which is distractingly sexy for thick thigh reasons. Not at all where my mind should be right now.
We both step forward for the handoff, and my muddy shoe slips, causing me to briefly lose balance. I catch myself as I take the basket, but the stranger goes reeling. He grabs wildly at the air, and the next thing I know, we’ve crashed into the ditch together.
I roll off him in a huff, further soaking myself in the process. “Can’t blame anyone but myself for this one. Sorry!”
The man stands. He looks down at himself and snorts. “Fuck.”
We both scramble up the side of the ditch.
“I’m just going to leave now,” he says.
I pull myself onto flat land. “I usually have no problem with this ditch. Or ditches in general.”
He shakes mud off of his jeans. “Just my lucky day, I guess.”
I laugh. The entire thing has gotten ridiculous, so we might as well find the humor in it.
But then I remember the money I just lost, and my stomach tightens. More than ready to shower and get back to work, I gesture the way the man was just headed.
