Breaking Stars - J. Sterling Page 0,17
color, fake personalities, fake everything—when something as genuine as this stood in front of me, I tended to take notice. There was nothing fake about this guy.
“Uh…uh,” I stammered, which surprised me because I was never at a loss for words. “Afternoon.”
As he cocked his head to the side and stared at me, it never occurred to me until that second that he might know who I was. Then he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the notion, and glanced back at my car.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“I got a flat.”
He walked around the front of the car and stopped at the sight of the ruined tire, a frown twisting his perfect lips as he glanced back at me. “This needs to be replaced. Do you have the spare?”
I shook my head. “I don’t. I already used it and never replaced it. Stupid, I know.”
A slight grin appeared before disappearing just as quickly. “I’ll get it towed for you to my shop.”
“You have a shop?” I asked, assuming this guy couldn’t be more than a year older than me.
“It’s my dad’s. I’ll tow it there, but I won’t be able to get you the tire until tomorrow. Do you have someplace to stay or someone you can call?”
“I don’t know anyone here,” I admitted, feeling vulnerable and stupid. “Or even where I am exactly.”
“I’ll drop you off at the local bed and breakfast. It’s the only one in town. And then I’ll come back for your car.”
“Um…” I paused as nervousness surged through my veins. “How do I know you’re not a serial killer or something?”
He gave me a look that was part amusement, part irritation. “Do I look like a serial killer?”
Lord help me if this guy didn’t look like a dang model, but there had been hot murderers before. Ted Bundy had used his good looks to lure women to their deaths.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly, “but how do I know you really own a shop? Do you have a business card?”
“Because serial killers don’t carry business cards, right?” he said, mocking me as he fumbled around inside his truck. “I don’t have any cards because I don’t normally need them in this town, but here’s the paperwork for some parts I just dropped off.” He handed me the paper with the shop’s name and number, and some signatures at the bottom.
“Just please don’t murder me,” I said seriously before walking around to the passenger side of his truck.
“I’ll do my best,” he said dryly.
“Do you think my car’s safe out here?” I glanced back at my pride and joy.
His Holy Hotness looked around at the desolate landscape surrounding us before pinning me with an annoyed glare. “Looks pretty dangerous out here. Better lock it up after you get your things.”
I shook my head, feeling like an idiot. Reaching for my cell phone, I grabbed it and tucked it into my front pocket. Pulling my purse and duffel bag free from the front seat, I tossed my pepper spray in and gripped the handle of it tightly before locking the car doors and hopping into his truck where he waited.
“I’m Paige,” I said as I offered my hand.
He stared at it like it might bite him, as if my hand might literally jump right off of my arm and eat his face. Which was something my lips sort of wanted to do. Then his gaze flicked up to mine before he put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the highway.
“I know who you are. What I don’t know is why on earth you’re all the way out here alone. Are you filming a movie or something?” He chewed on his bottom lip, and I fought off the urge to run my thumb across it.
I shook my head to clear the inappropriate thoughts and wondered who had taken over my body. “No, not filming. I just needed to get away.”
“And you picked here? In the middle of nowhere to get away to?” His voice was thick with sarcasm and something else I couldn’t quite place, but it certainly wasn’t Southern hospitality.
Instantly I turned defensive, a side I rarely showed. “I didn’t pick here. My car got a flat tire, remember?” This guy irked me no end, and I’d known him for all of two seconds. “So do you have a name, or do I get to make one up for you?”
He grunted. “Tatum.”
“Like Channing?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“No,” he snapped back. “Like Montgomery.”
“Oh.”