CHAPTER TWO
SABRINA TURNED HER FACE UP to the sky, and a fat raindrop plopped onto her nose. It really was about to storm. She’d been so mad she hadn’t noticed the sky growing dark. It was almost completely black now.
She looked at the man behind the wheel again. He was large. Not just tall, though she was pretty sure he was tall even though he was sitting, but broad. Big hands held the steering wheel, and his green eyes were intense as he watched her.
He wore a black suit, which ought to be a comfort since he looked as if he’d recently come from a business meeting, but there was something savage about him, something barely contained in the polish of his manner.
It didn’t matter that he was handsome, that he was somehow familiar in a way she couldn’t quite comprehend. She felt like she could trust him, and yet that thought only made fresh panic churn in her belly.
She didn’t have the best record lately when it came to trusting men.
For the first time since she’d stormed away from the mockery of her wedding ceremony, she felt a touch of fear instead of anger or despair. She’d been so stunned at the turn of events that she hadn’t quite known what she was doing. When Brian’s wife—Missy, her name was—came screaming up the beach with a little girl in tow, Sabrina hadn’t believed it.
She’d turned to Brian, certain he’d look as shocked as she felt at the woman’s intrusion into their ceremony. One glance at his face told her all she needed to know. He’d shrugged when she’d demanded the truth—and that’s when instinct took over. She’d slapped him across the face, then turned and trudged up the beach, only stopping to grab her carry-on suitcase from the car he’d rented.
She would have taken the damn car, but he had the keys. So she’d walked instead, rolling the suitcase down the road and sobbing. She’d stopped sobbing two miles ago and started fuming—and cursing herself for being too damned trusting. She’d wanted a family for so long, wanted to feel that sense of belonging to someone, that she’d ignored all the warning signs and tumbled headlong into a wedding she hadn’t really been ready for.
Brian had been an expert at soothing her fears and saying what she wanted to hear. He’d made her believe her jitters were nothing more than typical wedding nerves. That he was the answer to all her prayers.
Bastard. Evil bastard. She hoped he was currently as miserable as she was.
The sky chose that moment to open up, and the rain poured down on her like someone had upended a bucket. The man in the Tahoe swore, and then he threw open his door and raced around to her side. He took her suitcase and tossed it in the backseat, then yanked open the passenger door and picked her up to tuck her inside. She was too surprised to protest. She was still tugging her skirts into place when he slammed the door and ran back around the Tahoe.
Rain dripped from his dark hair, ran down the planes of his face. He was handsome, and her stomach churned anew. Not with fear this time. With some other feeling she didn’t dare examine.
The rain sheeted down on the windshield, and water flooded the roadway. She swallowed. “Thanks for stopping.”
He shrugged and pulled carefully back onto the road. “No problem.”
She stuck out her hand. “I’m Sabrina.”
She wasn’t sure if he would accept her handshake, but then his big hand closed over her small one. Gently, thank God. A tingle slid through her nerve endings.
“Mal.”
She pulled her hand away and smoothed her wet skirts. God, she’d loved this dress so much. It was probably ruined now. Like her wedding.
“Where are you from, Sabrina?”
She glanced at his profile, and her heart hitched anew. He was rather stunning, even dripping wet. He’d pushed his hand through his hair, and it slicked to his skull like a swimmer’s.
“Tennessee.”
“You’re probably a Peyton Manning fan then.”
She blinked. “I don’t know who that is.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “Seriously? You have no idea who Peyton Manning is?”
“Should I?”
He laughed. “He played football for the University of Tennessee before going into the NFL. He’s only one of the greatest quarterbacks that ever lived. Though I’ll deny it if you tell anyone I said so.”
“I don’t watch football.”
Sabrina sucked in a breath as they hit a bump in the road. The dress was cutting her in half, the boning working to keep her upright and forcing her to take shallower breaths than usual. She wished like hell she could reach around and unpop some buttons.
“Don’t watch football? That’s un-American, sugar.”
Sabrina shrugged. “Lots of people don’t watch football.”
His hands flexed on the wheel. “That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t you want to watch football?”
In truth, she saw football all the time since she worked at a bar in Nashville that often had games playing on the televisions around the room. She didn’t pay attention to it though, and she didn’t get what the big deal was. She was there to earn a living while trying to break into country music.
“It’s a bunch of guys in tight outfits and pads throwing a tiny ball around on a field and jumping on top of each other. I don’t get why it’s important or why anyone cares.”
His jaw dropped. Then he shook his head. “I’m speechless, Sabrina. Just speechless.”
She didn’t know why she suddenly felt like laughing. Today hadn’t been a laughing kind of day. But he was looking at her like she was an alien, and it was somehow funny. She got the impression he was trying to make her laugh, which was pretty sweet considering she’d inconvenienced him and gotten him soaked in the process.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you enjoy it very much. Probably meet your buddies in the bar to watch your favorite team and everything.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“It’s not my thing, but then I don’t understand it. Though that guy on the insurance commercials is pretty cute.”
“You mean Aaron Rodgers.”
“Is that his name? He seems to have a good sense of humor.”
“Not as funny as you’d like on game day. He’s all business then.”
He sounded like he knew the guy. She’d noticed that her customers in the bar were very invested in their teams. This man was simply another football fanatic with a favorite team.
“The pizza guy is funny too.”
Mal snorted. “The pizza guy is Peyton Manning.”
“Oh. Then I guess I do know who he is.” Kinda.
“Guess so.” He sounded amused.
He turned onto another road. The rain was still coming down, and lightning flashed, a huge jagged bolt that cut through the sky almost in front of them. Sabrina squeaked when thunder crashed overhead.
“We’ll be out of it soon,” Mal said as the wipers beat hard against the window.
Her heart pounded. “I’m not usually scared of storms, but that was close.”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward and peered into the rain. She couldn’t see anything in front of them, and she had no idea how he could. There was only rain and a couple of feet of pavement.
He soon turned onto another road, only this one was narrow. It took her a second to realize it was a driveway. It cut through a swath of pines and live oaks dripping with moss.
“Where are we?”
He shot her a smile. “Home.”