FOUR
Duke
What kind of mechanic’s shop closes at three in the afternoon? The only one in town, that’s what. Turns out the arsehole cop knew what he was talking about.
The silhouette of the branches above me dance across the stars in the sky as I lie on the roof of the car, weighing my options. I could walk into town—however far that is—and try for a room at some cheap motel. But then that leaves the vehicle out here all night with nobody to watch it, and I know what these country roads are like. It’s some scene straight from a Mad Max movie: the car enters dusk as one complete unit and remerges at dawn as a stripped former shell of itself.
My brother may be a jerk, but that doesn’t mean I need to be one, too. I can at least make sure he gets his investment back in as best shape as I can. Would be a whole lot easier to do if the fucking driveshaft hadn’t decided to obliterate on me, but it is what it is.
I already pushed my luck with the cop, only just managing to talk my way back out of the handcuffs. Seems that a few friendly remarks about the current rugby season is enough to sway any red-blooded male around. By the time he released my hands, he’d already mapped out half his fantasy team and was asking me for my picks on the semi-finals.
I got let go with a warning on two conditions: one, I don’t eye-fuck his cousin again, and two, the car is off the roadside in the next twenty-four hours. Seems even he isn’t so confident it’s safe to leave it out here, calling it a “distraction” for bored youth.
Which brings me to the only logical solution: sleep in the car and wait out rescue in the morning.
Fuck my life.
The dark and I don’t mix. It’s the exact reason why I lie here with the torch on my phone turned on, draining the battery while I do my utmost to pretend I’m not attuned to every creak and scratch of the trees around me.
In my mind, it’s not a matter of if there’s a threat; it’s a matter of where.
As though my prayers have been heard, the sweeping arc of headlights brings the branches above me to life in an array of lush greens and yellows. I push up on my elbows and spot the hottie’s BMW paused at the end of her driveway. The brake lights go out, and the reverse lights come on as she slowly eases back onto the road. I shift around on the roof until I’m seated on the front edge, my legs over the windscreen, and watch as she brings the coupe to a stop nose-to-nose with the HQ. Seems it won’t be my fault if I’m caught looking at the cousin then, after all.
Without breaking my line of sight from her, I reach behind me and pat around on the steel until I locate my phone and then switch the torch off. Her door opens, and a black boot hits the ground before she completely emerges from the car.
“Hey there,” I call out, pressing my phone into my palm until it hurts.
She shuts the car door and steps toward me. “Do you need some help?” Fuck me—the voice is as gorgeous as the woman herself.
“You could say that.”
Tingles spread through my hand as I grip the phone to the point of near crushing the case. The guy I picked the car up off? Piece of piss to deal with. And the cop? Easy enough, given the interaction took place in the daylight. But when the moon is dim, concealed behind a bank of lazy clouds? Fuck my night time anxiety.
“Have you broken down?” The woman frowns, walking around the hood to the driver’s side. The long cardigan she wears billows around her legs as she moves, her silvery grey hair tucked up in a loose bun beneath a baggy black knitted hat. I narrow my gaze on her, confirming what I thought as the headlights catch the metal—her nose is pierced underneath like a damn bull. Different.
“I called the shop in town for a tow, but they were closed.” I run my eye over the curve of her arse, the swell of her tits highlighted by the light behind her. “Your cousin helpfully advised I’d have trouble getting a truck that late in the day.”
She stops walking as I slide down the windscreen and shuffle across the hood to hop to the ground. “Yeah. Archie has to get his kids from school. Things have been tough since he became a single dad, but he does what he needs to.”
“Sounds like a busy man.”
“He is.” She tips her head to the side, clearly checking me out as her gaze drops to my feet and then climbs back up. “Shane didn’t give you too much trouble?”
“That the cop’s name?”
“Yeah.” She chews on her bottom lip before saying, “He can be a bit intense sometimes.”
Understatement. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“So …”
“So?”
“You planning on camping out here overnight?”
I grimace and rub a hand over the back of my neck. “Not saying anything bad about your town—”
“But?”
“But I’d rather not leave the car sitting out here in the open all night, so I don’t really have much of a choice.” I chuckle, nudging the nosecone with my boot. “Even if it is a piece of shit.”
“Understood.” She brings a hand to her throat as she stares off over my shoulder in thought. My eyes are drawn to the detailed line-work she has there. “Look, I don’t normally do this kind of thing for complete strangers, but you’re welcome to leave it on my driveway for the night so you can find somewhere better to stay. There’s heaps of room to park it in the turning bay.”
I twist and gauge the distance to her place. “As great as that sounds, it’s a heavy old tank of a car. I might struggle to get it over there.”
“So I’ll help you push it, get it started, and then I’ll jump in to steer.”
I whip my gaze back around and settle on her earnest eyes, rimmed in black. “Are you sure?”
Her arms lift at her sides. “I’m here offering, aren’t I?”
“I guess you are.” I size her up, estimating whether what little grunt she could add would be worth it or not. “Tell you what, I’ll give it a try first while you steer, and if I need your help to push I’ll let you know.”
“Sure.” She doesn’t argue the point any further as she marches her heavy boots back to her car, and promptly drops into the driver’s seat. Within seconds, she has the coupe backed up at ninety degrees to the HQ so that her headlights illuminate our path.
I pocket my phone and bend down to tighten the laces on my boots. Fucking Cody isn’t going to believe a word I say when I tell him about this pretty little Good Samaritan. Might give the arsehole incentive to go out and get his own goddamn car next time, though.
The woman in question passes by, and promptly opens the door of the HQ to take her place behind the wheel. “It’s in neutral?”
“Yeah.” I step up beside her as she looks around the dash. “The handbrake is just there.”
She follows where I point. “Awesome. Let’s do this then, muscles.”
“Beware,” I tell her as I wind down the window. “It doesn’t have power-steering.”
She smiles up at me as I shut the door. “I kind of figured that.” She gives her slender arms a sneaky flex. “I’m stronger than I look.”
I hesitate like the creeper I am, lost in the way her cheeks pinch in as she grins. She’s a definite diamond in the rough, a sweet surprise on what’s turning out to be a hell of a day.
The grass is already damp underfoot thanks to the cooler temperature now the sun’s gone down. My boots slip as I give the HQ its first shunt to get it moving, but thankfully, I don’t end up face planting in the dirt, instead putting the car into a decent roll towards the driveway.
By the time we get the vehicle outside her house, I’m jogging behind it, hands braced on the boot, breaths coming short and fast. I let go, watching the car roll as she curves it around to tuck the HQ off to the side of the large gravelled parking bay. Her arms have to be burning with how hard she would have wrenched the steering wheel to get it turned so tight.
“Thanks for this,” I call as she steps out of the car. “I’ll leave you my number in case you need to get in touch about it before I turn up with the tow truck.”
She shuts the door behind her and dusts her palms off on her leggings. “That would be great. I’m sure it’ll be fine where it is, though.” She steps up before me and offers her hand. “I’m Cammie, by the way.”
“Duke.” I give her hand a couple of quick pumps, equally disturbed by the fact I broke my personal bubble willingly, and the fact that I liked it.
Her eyes hold mine a fraction too long, and she smiles, small and shy. “You need a lift into town?”
“I don’t want to put you out more than I already have.” I take the keys she offers, and head for the car to retrieve my overnight bag. “I can walk.”
Hopefully the phone battery holds out that long.
“Rubbish,” she calls after me. “It’s pitch black on that road, Duke.” Cammie lifts her hands palms out, eyebrows raised as she wanders over. “Now, I’m not saying anything about my town either, but not everyone’s eyesight is what it’s cracked up to be. I mean, we’ve got a few old-timers who live out in these parts, and as much as I hate the fact they do it, I’m also aware they drive home after one too many at the pub or RSA.” She reaches the car and props a hip into the side panel while she watches me gather my stuff, her arms folded. “You’d be a hell of a lot safer, and I’d feel a hell of a lot better, if I just dropped you off wherever you’re booked for the night.”
Girl sure can talk. “I’m not booked anywhere.” I heft my bag out and close the boot with my free hand.
“Oh. I’m sure the roadhouse would still have a spare bed if the motel is full. We can ring ahead if you like?”
“Might be a good idea. Don’t suppose you know the name of the place so I can look it up?” I dump the bag at my feet and pull my phone out.
Her lips turn upward, the sparkly bullring touching her top one as she does. “I should, I drive past it enough.” She sighs. “You know what? Come inside and I’ll grab the Yellow Pages.”
My next breath catches in my throat as she takes off toward the driveway. Out here, I have options. I’m not caged in by etiquette and social convention. Inside her house, the spotlight’s on me if I need to step out. Everything I try to hide creeps that much closer to the surface, dangerously so.
“Hang out at the front door,” she calls as she merges into the darkness of the driveway. “I’ll go get my car first.”
My mouth is dry, my hand gripped tightly to my phone again to bring me back to reality. She’s just being nice. She’s not a threat. I snatch up my bag and head toward her porch as she vanishes from sight, engulfed by the night.
I’m totally fucked.
One social interaction with somebody who genuinely wants to help, and I’m a thousand miles away again, wondering who is really a friend and who is a foe.
Nobody can be trusted—it’s a lesson I learnt the hard way.
Especially not myself.