by Sasha Goldie
3
Nate
The trip was cursed. My lucky suit was at the dry cleaners in Portland, no cell reception, no radio, and the only place I'd found to pee along the way was shady as hell. Trying to find the excitement I’d felt as I’d driven out of Portland, I walked up to the empty bathroom, pushing the door open uneasily. Even in broad daylight, the absence of any other person there made the rest stop feel very creepy.
Inside the bathroom wasn't as spooky, but it was absolutely gross. Two toilets and three urinals in there and only one of them wasn't busted up. It looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the porcelain in the room. I used the only unbroken one, pretending not to see the stuff crusted to it. Gagging, I washed my hands and left the room by pushing the door open with my hip. I didn't even bother drying them. There were probably tiny fecal particles on every surface in that room. Hell, the water was probably even contaminated.
I hightailed it to the other side of the rest stop and the vending machines. Out of order signs covered the money slot on all but one. "What's with this place and having only one thing functioning?" I asked the empty room.
One was better than none, though, so I dug a few dollar bills out and inserted one. The bill hung in the bill reader and even though it was flashing green, didn't suck it in.
"Okay," I muttered. "Maybe you don't like that particular dollar bill." I switched it out for another.
Nothing. A quick jog back to my car, and I discovered I'd cleaned out all the change. Or maybe Sara had, but the cup holder usually held a handful of coins. Not today, of course.
With a deep breath, I practiced a positive thinking method I'd learned in college. Believe it and will it to be so. I believed the trip would be over soon, and I willed the rest of it to be pleasant. I'd just stop at the next exit and grab some fast food. That wouldn't delay me too much, and I'd still make my reservation. No problem. It was all good. I was still on the fast track to the rest of my life. No worries.
No other exit presented itself, and by the time I was about forty miles from the tiny town of Three Lakes, I was starving. Checking my rearview mirror, I noticed white smoke pouring from the back of my car. "No, no, no," I moaned. If I was broken down on the side of the highway, I wouldn't make my reservation and it had been the only place in town with a vacancy. The owner was going out of town and leaving at 8:00 p.m. He wouldn't be there to let me in after 8:00 and the reservation would be void.
"Damn it," I cried as the engine stalled on a steep incline. "Make it over the hill, baby, we can coast a long way, maybe to a gas station or somewhere with a working phone." I rubbed the steering wheel lovingly, encouraging her to make it a little bit farther
She just couldn't do it. Luckily there was a shoulder. At least I wouldn't be hit as people sped by.
I slammed the car door as I got out to check the damage. The reason for the breakdown was obvious. The white smoke and radiator fluid leaking out from underneath was a sure sign of a busted head gasket. "You've got to be kidding me."
I'd had the oil changed a couple of weeks before, and the last tune-up had only been a few months ago. There had been no indication of a coming breakdown. I kept a pretty close eye on the seals, condition of the metals, and other small maintenance things to prevent just this sort of thing from happening.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to stay calm. "You can handle this, Nate." I pulled out my cell, praying I was high enough up the incline to get me in range of a cell signal.
No such luck.
Damn it. Being positive was becoming more and more difficult. "No big deal, it's not like you can't handle a little walk." Talking to myself seemed like a good idea to keep the anger and panic at bay.
The hill caused a slight burn in the back of my legs, but not bad. I ran nearly every day in the city, so the walk was more refreshing than irritating. The city runs were on level ground, though. But still, the fresh mountain air was a nice change from the city. The walk was a positive thing. If I kept repeating it, maybe I'd believe it. It could’ve been worse, right? I could’ve been broken down in the middle of nowhere in the desert. At least in the mountains, it wasn’t hot. The trees would become more menacing as the day turned to night, but for the moment they were silent companions as I walked.
When I crested the hill and faced the road winding deeper into the mountain, I knew my hopes of cell service were slim. No matter how I held my phone or walked around with it raised above my head, no service blinked repeatedly at the top of the display. "Stop mocking me."
On the walk back to my car, I checked the time, calculating my chances of getting to my room for the night. Six thirty. If someone came along soon enough, maybe I would make it to the AirBnB in time to check in. Maybe I'd get really, really lucky.
Twenty minutes later, I gave up hope. The town was at least a thirty-minute drive, once a tow truck arrived at the car. The last town I'd passed was farther than the next, so it would take the tow truck a good thirty minutes to even get to me. Best-case scenario, I'd get to the AirBnB as the landlord left.
Damn it. I'd never find somewhere else to stay in that minuscule blip on the map.
I dug around in my briefcase for a power bar. I usually kept one or two in there for nights I worked late. I thought about the vending machine at the rest stop as my stomach growled. I should've grabbed a rock or something and finished breaking the vending machines by smashing out the glass and helping myself to a snack.
Chuckling, I got out of the car and walked back and forth to stretch my legs. Like I'd ever have vandalized a vending machine. I'd have to be a far cry hungrier than I was to do something like that.
I'd just lain back on the hood of my car to look up at the nearly cloudless sky when I heard a car coming.
Jumping up, I waved my arms like a lunatic. I didn't care how crazy I looked. At the very least, I needed the person to stop at the next possible location and call someone to pick me up. No way I would try to walk it. It was getting too close to dusk in the mountains. There were way too many critters around to walk at night. Shit, the city was safer at night.
The oncoming car pulled off in front of me, thank goodness. "Hello," I called as a man stepped out of the plain white car.
Finally, a stroke of luck. He was in a police officer's uniform. Must've been driving an unmarked car. "You okay?" he asked as he walked toward me. He was cute if a bit young. He looked like he was fresh out of the academy, though he didn't act like it. He was comfortable in his uniform. Maybe he was older than he looked.
"Fine, just the car," I said as I turned and gestured toward the hunk of expensive junk. "I think it's the head gasket."
"Smoke out the tailpipe?" he asked, hands on his hips as he looked down at the car.
"Yep."
"Sounds like it. Well, wait here. I'll get you a tow truck on the way. I'm Brady. You passing through or stopping somewhere nearby?"
"I'm looking into the sale of the Parkson land on behalf of the family. I was supposed to stay in an apartment in Three Lakes. Near the diner, the listing said, while the owner was on vacation, but there's no way I'll make it now. I'm supposed to be there by eight."
"Oh, yeah, Joey Bing's place. He mentioned that he was going to the beach." The officer checked his watch. "Yeah, you're not making that. Well, Ian will give you a lift into town, and I'm sure he'll find somewhere for you. If not, tell him to give me a call. I may be able to track something down. I’ve got a mother-in-law cottage behind my house if nothing else."
Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but I’d do whatever it took to get my job done. "I appreciate it. Do you have a working cell phone?" If he did, maybe I could call the AirBnB guy, Joey, and plead my case.
"Sorry, bud. This is a dead zone. Not even my radio works on this stretch of mountain. I'll drive up the road a ways to the gas station and call Ian. He'll come to get you shortly, don't worry." He tipped his hat at me like a TV cowboy and walked back to his car, taking off without a backward look at me.
<
br /> With a sigh, I climbed back onto the hood of my car and stretched out. Might as well, there was nothing else to do. I contemplated opening my laptop and playing solitaire, but it would take too much effort at that point. The hood of the car was warm, and the sweater I'd worn for the drive kept the chilly mountain wind from freezing me to death. Before I knew it my eyes closed, and I drifted.
In the middle of the mountains, no way I could go to sleep, but I did find myself in a pleasant floaty place while I waited on the probably redneck tow truck driver to show up.
The rumbling of a big old truck roused me from my doze. I jumped up, ready to get to phase two of the trip from hell—finding a place to sleep. The truck drove past the car and disappeared. Surely that was my tow. There couldn’t be that many towing companies in the area that one would drive by coincidentally with me out here stranded? Before I worked myself up into a real panic, he was back. He’d just turned around. I calmed my racing heart and he pulled off in front of my car, backing up as close as he could to it.
The man that stepped out of the truck was the complete opposite of what I'd been expecting. I'd been looking to see big ol' Bubba, but the only way this guy was a Bubba would be if he opened his mouth and most of his teeth were missing. That would ruin his entire country boy look.
Please let him have all of his teeth.
"Hey, having some trouble?" Not-Bubba held out his hand. "I'm Ian."
"Nate," I said softly. Ian was taller than me, with broad shoulders that strained the stitching of his t-shirt. After I shook his hand, I realized he'd left a small streak of grease on the inside of my thumb, but looking at him, I didn't even care. If I'd met him in a pub—and he'd been grease-free—I would've been trying to pick him up for a one-night stand.
"Nice to meet you," I said with a shy smile. He was a hard worker, small-town man. Even if I was lucky enough to find out he was gay, his body language screamed he was a man that normally got his own way. Alpha male, maybe.
I couldn't help but wonder if it would be nice to be the one to give him his way.
"Well, let's get this thing loaded up," he said, eyeballing my car. "Don't get much call for parts for these around here, but maybe we'll have luck at the body shop."
"There's a body shop?" I joked. "I can't imagine enough people want to live here to give a body shop that much business."
Smiling, I turned back to Ian, but he wasn't laughing. "Sorry," I said. "I'm just kidding."
He nodded his head and loaded the car. I stood out of the way with my foot in my mouth, cursing myself for always saying the wrong thing. Why'd I try to flirt with him anyway? He probably had a wife and two-point-five kids. Watching his muscles move under his tee, I hoped not, but the way this trip was going, I’d never manage to salvage a quickie or fling out of it.
I couldn't wait to get this auction done and get the hell out of town.
4
Ian
"There's a body shop?" the tourist said in a snide voice. "I can't imagine enough people want to live here to give a body shop that much business."
My teeth snapped when I clamped my lips shut and started loading the car.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm just kidding."
It was easier to stay silent than reply to him. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was handsome enough, but his attitude sucked. He’d probably had everything in life handed to him on a silver platter. Too bad such a crap attitude was wrapped up in such a sexy package.
Once I had the small vehicle secured, I started the motor to pull it onto the back of the truck, peeking inside the car as it moved onto the bed. My assumption that he was a tourist might have been premature. He had a briefcase in the passenger seat of the small car, but I didn't see a suitcase.
"So, do you give rides too?" he asked nervously. At least he had the good sense to be embarrassed about what he’d said.
"No, you'll have to call a cab," I said casually over the sound of the motor, watching his face blanch with a bland smile on my face.
His eyes widened and he looked around, then clapped his hand over his face. "This trip has to start getting better." His words were muffled behind his hand, and I barely heard him.
The motor stopped. "I’m sorry, I'm just messing with you." I sighed. "Come on." I couldn’t be mean to the guy, even if he did seem like a jerk. My mama would’ve tanned my hide.
My hand was on the handle of the door before I heard the scuffling sound of the man's feet on the gravelly concrete as he scrambled after me. I chuckled and hopped in while he climbed into the passenger seat.
The uncomfortable silence pressed at me. City boy sat in his khaki slacks and church-best, button-down shirt with his chin in his hand, staring out the window morosely. The way he leaned forward gave me a nice view of his shirt stretched over his shoulders. He wasn’t bulky, but obviously, he worked out. I’d always liked a man that took care of himself. Made me want to take care of him, too. "It's not that bad here," I said. He probably couldn't wait to escape it. "Everyone is nice."
He turned his head and stared at me for a few seconds. "I'm sure they are. It's beautiful up here, that's for sure." He went back to staring at the passing landscape.
Probably couldn't think of anything nice to say, so he complimented the view. "I'm Ian. Ian Garland." Might as well be cordial.
"Nate. Thanks for the tow." He picked up one of my business cards from the dashboard. "You own the business?"
He wanted to chat, then. Okay. "Yeah." No sense of volunteering more information than I needed to.
"Okay, then." Nate turned back to the window. "I'm a realtor," he said to the glass. "Large projects."
That explained the city-boy vibe then. "Where are you based out of?"
"Portland. There's a land auction I'll be overseeing next week." Ha! I knew it. Total city boy. Just what I needed. Another sexy jerk.
I hadn't heard about any auctions. News normally spread quickly in the tiny town. "Anywhere I might know?"
He reached down toward his feet then chuckled. "Oh, yeah. I left my briefcase in the car. I can't think of the name of the land. If you hadn’t asked..." He smiled at me. "If it comes to mind, I’ll tell you."
Twiddling my business card between his thumbs, he groaned. "I don't suppose you know somewhere I can rent a room for the night, do you?"
"Not right now, no. There's a big skiing competition this week. Every room in a hundred-mile radius is booked, and we don’t have a hotel."
He laughed again, but this time the sound was totally humorless. "Of course it is. Of all the rotten luck. I just got a big break at work. That’s what I get for being excited and hopeful."
My mother's voice whispered in the back of my mind. You've got an extra bedroom.
Nope. No. This Nate fella was exactly the same as Scott. Gorgeous and completely wrong for me. All business, all city. He probably didn’t even know how to change a tire. No way I wanted to spend any time with a man that thought he was too good to be in Three Lakes. Not to mention he was only there to make money off of the community.
Scott had left me for bigger and brighter places and had never looked back.
"There's always a room to rent in the city," Nate grumbled.
I snorted. "We'll get you back there as soon as we can."
Scott would've said something exactly like that. What a jerk.
"Thanks," he said sincerely. He thought I was being nice. "You're the local mechanic as well as the tow truck driver?"
"I am." If he made one crack about working on cars for a living, I was going to dump him on the side of the road.
"Once upon a time, I loved working on cars. Rebuilt this one myself." He stuck his thumb toward the car hooked to the truck. "Do you think the parts store will have a head gasket? It's not a very common car and the parts can be obscure."
Suddenly, I understood why women got so frustrated. Was this dude mansplaining to me, a mechanic? I glanced at his hands. They didn’t have the roughness of a mechanic, but I spotted
a scar or two, so he could’ve been telling the truth. Maybe.
Maybe he wasn't quite as bad as Scott. "I'm not sure, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
"Are they closed?"
"Yeah, we can't find out until morning." Duke was well into his retirement years but didn’t quite want to give up the shop. Instead, he closed early in the day.
"Damn." He fisted his hands on his knees, clearly frustrated.
I knew I'd end up offering to let him crash in my spare bedroom. I didn't like how he reminded me of Scott, but I wasn't a dick. "Why didn't the land sale go to someone local?" We were a very small town, but we had two different realtors. We’d only had one until three years ago. We'd had a bit of a boom with younger people moving into the area—three new families—and had picked up another realtor in the process. Neither of them was kept busy enough for it to be a full-time job and could've used the business.
"My firm specializes in sales of this magnitude."
What magnitude in a town so small? The biggest property we had was probably the grocery store and it was pretty small, too. "And that would be?"
"Mostly sales of over a million dollars, but those smaller sales are left to the new partners. I haven't had a sale under ten mill in..." I glanced at his expression. He was thinking hard. "Probably for four years."
"Remarkable," I said dryly. He was trying to impress me for some reason. Maybe that was how city boys flirted. Or maybe he was just a braggart.
"Thank you. I've worked hard to get there, don't let me make it sound like it was easy." He grinned at me. "But you're no stranger to hard work, are you?"
"I know my way around," I said, not sure how to take him. He was starting to ramble. I could think of a few better uses for his mouth than all the talking he was doing. I snorted internally and told myself to stop being so crude. Nothing had changed. He was still totally wrong for me, and a hot mouth wouldn’t change that.
