Chapter One

"See you tomorrow." I hurry out of the garage, swinging my purse over my shoulder.

"Sage, wait!" Jesse races up to me, wiping the sweat off his face with a greasy rag.

"I can't." I keep walking. "I have to get home."

He holds my arm, stopping me. "Just one night. One dinner. Can't you give me that?"

I sigh. "Jesse, for the last time, I'm not interested in dating you. Or anyone. After everything I've been through, I need time to myself. And once I get everything figured out, I'm not staying here, which is another reason I'm not getting involved with you, or any other guy in town." I pull my arm back. "I really have to go."

He folds his arms over his chest. "I don't know why you won't agree to this. I'm not asking you to marry me. It's just dinner. You at least owe me that."

"Owe you?" I huff. "Are you serious?" I storm off toward my car, feeling the dust kicking up on my legs. This town is so freakin' dusty. I feel like I'm constantly covered in it.

"Sage, you know I didn't mean it that way," Jesse calls out from behind me.

I whip around and see him still standing in the same spot. His faded jeans and blue work shirt are covered in grease and for a moment I feel sorry for him. Stuck in this town forever, working at his dad's shop. But then he makes a stupid comment like he just did, and any sympathy I had for him is gone.

My purse slipped down my arm so I fling it back over my shoulder and say, "You mean you weren't implying I owe you sexual favors in exchange for this job?"

He starts to smile but then quickly shuts it down when he sees how angry I am. "I never said that, or implied it. I asked you to dinner. That's it."

"Yeah, and I said I'm not interested. I've told you that like a million times. If turning you down means I'm fired then..." I stop, wishing I hadn't said that. I need this job. It's the only place in town that would hire me and it actually pays well, or at least what's considered good for a town this size. I whip back around and start walking. "Bye, Jesse." 

He doesn't respond. Shit. I hope I didn't just get myself fired. I don't think Jesse would do that but I don't know him well enough to say for sure. I've only worked there a month and so far Jesse and I have gotten along fine, except for when he asks me out. Every time he does, I tell him no, and then he avoids me for a day or so. After that, things go back to normal until he asks me out again. I'm getting tired of it and just want him to stop.

He needs to find someone else to go out with. It's not like he couldn't get a date. Jesse is a decent looking guy. He's average height with sandy blond hair that always looks messy but in a good way. He plays sports with his buddies on the weekends, usually basketball, so he stays in shape. It's not like he's all muscle or anything, but he's in better shape than a lot of the guys around here. And he has a cute face, with a side dimple and soft baby blue eyes. A lot of girls like that look but I prefer guys with more of a rugged, manly face.

As soon as I drive off I call Nina. I've only known her a little over a month but she's already my best friend.

"I need a new job," I say, speeding down the road, my anger putting me on edge. I'm not just angry at Jesse, but at my situation and what got me here.

"What'd he do now?" she asks, chomping on her gum. She's trying to quit smoking so she's been chomping gum like crazy.

"He asked me out again." I cradle the phone between my neck and shoulder as I crank down the window. My mom had to sell both her car and mine which is how I ended up with this rusted-out piece of metal that barely runs. It was a sign-on bonus for taking the job at the garage, or at least that's what Jesse called it. I shouldn't have accepted it, knowing there was a catch, but I really needed a car.

"That's it?" Nina asks. "I thought you were going to say he made a pass at you. Groped you. Tried to kiss you."

"No. None of that. He just wanted to go to dinner." My window stops halfway down, obviously broken, so I give up cranking on it and turn on the fan to get some air blowing. It's a scorching hot June day in Kansas, at least 100 degrees.

"Just dinner?" she asks. "Then why are you pissed?"

I wipe the sweat off my brow. "Because I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling like I owe him something other than my time on the job. In fact, he even said that today. He said I owed him. That's harassment. I could turn him in for that."

"And then you'd have even more enemies. If you shut down Kenny's Garage, people won't have a place to fix their car."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm so pissed. I can't do anything about it other than keep telling him no. I can't quit. I need this job." Hot dusty air blows out the vents. "I'm sweating to death in this car." I attempt to lift my leg off the vinyl seats but it feels like it's glued on so I give up.

"I could try to see if Aunt Lu could give you some hours at the coffee shop but—"

"No. Forget it. I don't want her losing business because of me."

"This isn't your fault, Sage. You weren't the one stealing from them."

"No, but my dad did enough damage for their hatred to spread to me. And my mom."

"You work at Kenny's Garage and people still go there."

"Because like you said, it's the only place in town to get your car fixed. I only got the job because Jesse wants to date me. When his dad gets back, I'm sure I'll get fired."

"When's he coming back?"

"I don't know. Jesse said his dad might be gone all summer. His brother's shop isn't doing well."

Jesse's brother opened a body shop in Tulsa, Oklahoma but he didn't know how to run a business so the place was about to go under. His dad is there trying to save it.

"I wouldn't worry about it," she says. "Even if you don't go out with Jesse, he wouldn't fire you. If he did, what would he look at all day?" she says with a laugh.

"Great. So I'm getting paid to be eye candy."

"Whatever works." She pops her gum and the loud cracking sound makes me cringe.

"How much longer are you going to be chewing that gum?"

"Until I can go a week without a cigarette."

"You haven't gone a week yet?"

"Are you kidding? I haven't even made it a day. I've been smoking for ten years. You can't just give it up overnight."

Nina's been smoking since she was 12. Her mom's a smoker but she said it's her boyfriend who got her hooked. He was older than her and Nina wanted to look cool so when he offered her one of his cigarettes, she smoked one, which led to another and soon she was addicted.

"You want to go out tonight?" she asks.

"I can't. I need to study." I turn down the road that goes to my house. The road is surrounded by wheat fields with a house every mile or two. It kind of freaks me out that I live by myself in such an isolated area but it's a free place to live and right now, I need free.

"You're not in school," Nina points out.

"Yes, but I will be again soon and I need to keep up on what I've already learned."

Up until a month ago, I was a college student. I was supposed to graduate next December, but then my dad decided to skip town with my college fund, along with all the money I'd added to it over the years. Now I'm broke, completely broke, so college is on hold until I save up enough to go back. I was so close, just a few more classes and I would've been done.

"Why is it so freakin' hot out today?" I yank on the window handle. It won't budge.

"We need to go out tonight. Why don't we—"

"Shit!" I swerve into the other lane and hit the brakes, my body lurching forward before the seatbelt finally catches me and pulls me back.

"What is it?" Nina asks. "What happened?"

I check my rearview mirror and see a guy walking his motorcycle on the side of the road. His head is down, like he didn't even realize I almost ran him over.

"Sage, say something," Nina's voice is urgent. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little freaked out. I didn't see this guy."

"What guy?"

"There's some guy in the road. His motorcycle must've broke down. He's walking it somewhere."

"Where would he be taking it? There's nothing out there."

"I don't know."

"Are you home now?"

"No. I'm stopped on the road." My eyes haven't left the rearview mirror as I continue to look at the guy with the motorcycle. He's tall, with dark hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and light-colored pants. People around here wear worn jeans and faded t-shirts, or flannel shirts if the weather's cold. This guy looks like he just walked out of a frat house at some Ivy League college.

"Get out of there," Nina says. "Go home."

"What about the guy? Maybe he needs help."

"Or maybe he's a psychopathic serial killer on the run. Or maybe he just escaped from prison with a stolen motorcycle and now he—"

"He doesn't look like a serial killer," I say, as I watch him get closer. He's still a ways from my car but he has to know I'm here, so why isn't he looking up?

"And what exactly does a serial killer look like?" Nina asks.

"I don't know, but this guy doesn't even seem interested that I've stopped so I doubt he plans to kill me."

"Not yet. But wait until—"

"I'm gonna go ask him what he's doing."

"What?" Nina yells through the phone. "Sage, no! You don't even know this guy and you're on a deserted road."

"With my friend on the phone." I slowly back up the car. "If you hear me screaming for my life, call the cops."

"Would you please just go to your house and forget this guy? I don't want to listen to him kill you."

"He's not going to kill me." I back up until I'm just in front of him, then put the car in park. I undo my seatbelt and reach over to the passenger's side door. I check that it's locked as I roll the window down. "Hey!" I yell out the window as the guy walks up beside the car.

He says nothing, his head still down. Is he deaf? Even a deaf person would look up when a car stopped beside him.

"Hey!" I yell again.

He continues to ignore me and keeps walking. As he passes by the front of my car, I see his shirt is soaked with sweat. He must be dying in this heat, pushing that heavy motorcycle. There's a large green duffle bag strapped to the seat, which also looks heavy.

"Hey, wait!" I say, getting out of the car. I go around it and meet up with him as he walks. "You need some help?"

He ignores me. What is with this guy? Maybe he IS a serial killer, in which case I shouldn't have gotten out of my car. And left my cell phone in it. Shit.

I'm about to go get it but then the guy finally speaks.

"I'm fine," he mutters, his head still down.

"Your motorcycle broke down?" I ask.

He says nothing and keeps walking.

I look back at my car, which is now several feet away. Part of me wants to keep following this guy to figure out what his story is, but the other part of me wants to get the hell out of here. I don't see any weapons on him but he could be hiding one in his duffle bag.

I run back to my car and grab my phone from the seat.

"Sage?" I hear Nina say. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"What happened?"

"He won't talk to me."

"So you're going home?"

"Not yet." I rush to catch up with the guy.

"Sage, stop following that guy and get your ass home!" I hear Nina yell. I hold the phone down at my side as I approach the guy.

"You need a ride?" I ask, but then regret asking. I can't give a strange guy a ride in my car! What was I thinking?

Luckily, he doesn't take me up on the offer. He says nothing and starts walking faster, like he's trying to get away from me. Maybe he thinks I'm the serial killer.

"So where exactly are you going?" I ask, glancing back at my car. I'm getting more and more nervous the farther I get away from it. I hear the faint sound of Nina's voice coming from my phone, which I'm holding at my side, pressed against my shorts to muffle her words. I don't want the guy to hear her yelling at me.

"Do you talk?" I ask with a nervous laugh. "Or why are you so—"

"Stop," he says in a harsh tone as he finally stops walking. "Just stop talking. Stop following me. And stop asking me questions."

Now that he's looking at me, I'm finally able to see his face, and damn, he's hot. Manly-hot, not boyish-hot like Jesse. He looks about the same age as Jesse, maybe 24 or 25, but this guy has a maturity about him that makes him seem much older than that. It's the way he carries himself; the formality of his stance, the stiff upright positioning of his head, the intense look in his eyes as he stares at me.

I'm staring right back, at those deep brown eyes, those full lips, that sharp jaw.

"Now who's the one not listening?" he scolds.

I take a step back, flustered. "Um, yeah, sorry. I heard you. I'm just surprised."

His brows draw together. "Surprised by what?"

My nerves relax slightly and I stand up straighter. "I'm surprised you won't accept my offer to help. You're clearly struggling to get this bike to wherever it is you're going. It's like a hundred degrees out here. Your shirt is soaked."

He keeps his eyes on mine as he rips open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. He yanks it down each arm and tosses it on the ground.

"Happy now?" he asks with not even a hint of a smile.

I don't answer, my gaze now stuck on the muscles that outline his chest. He's not overly muscular. His arms aren't bulging biceps. Just lean sculpted muscle. The same goes for his chest, and his well-defined abs. I do a quick count. Yep, it's a six pack.

"Are we done here?" he asks.

My eyes meet up with his. "Yes. I mean, no. You still haven't answered my question. Do you need help? Do you want me to call someone? Well, I assume you have a cell phone but—"

"I don't need help." His eyes narrow. "Unless you know of someone who could get rid of the annoying girl who won't leave me alone."

I take a moment to process what he meant, then say, "You're kind of an ass, you know that?"

He smirks. "Not kind of. I AM an ass. Now leave me alone." He turns and starts walking again.

This time I don't follow him. I bring my phone to my ear. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything! Did you stuff your phone in your pocket? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say as I watch the guy walk away.

"What happened with the guy?"

"He's a self-inflated, egotistical asshole," I say loud enough for him to hear, "who doesn't deserve my help."

"Damn, girl, you're pissed. What'd he say to you?"

"That he's an asshole," I call out, still loud enough for him to hear. "As if I couldn't tell."

"Sage, stop provoking him and get out of there."

"I'm not provoking him. He's walking away. He wants to be left alone."

"Then why are you still standing there? Get in your car and drive the hell away."

She has a good point. Why am I still standing here? Watching the asshole walk away?

I should leave, but I can't seem to look away from him. He's mysterious. And hot. Damn, he's hot. Not just his looks, but his demeanor. His smooth deep voice. The way he carries himself. He seems sophisticated.

That's why I'm still standing here. Because I'm trying to figure this out. It doesn't make sense. Why would a hot, sophisticated guy be walking a motorcycle along a country road in rural Kansas?