was seventeen years ago. And changing a flat in a well-lit, air-conditioned garage (yes, the garage was air-conditioned because her father hadn’t wanted the south Florida humidity to ruin the paint job on his precious Bentley) was a far different animal from changing a flat in the dark on the side of the road.
As far as she could see, though, there was no other option.
She popped open the trunk. Four suitcases, a duffel bag, two totes filled with assorted household goods, and a camera case stared back at her. Hard to believe that this, plus one ninety-year-old abandoned house was now the sum total of all her worldly possessions.
Thank you, Timothy Barrington, III.
Ex-husband.
Lying sack of poo.
One day she’d look back at the past year and laugh. Today wasn’t that day. Today she had a flat tire and love bugs were doing the nasty in her hair. Time to get to work.
She pushed aside the luggage. Somewhere under all this mess there had to be a spare tire. Hauling the heavy suitcases out of the trunk, she tossed them onto the dusty ground. Sweat dripped off her back and down her legs. September in Florida, even at night, was still hot as hell.
Please let there be a flashlight in here.
She rummaged through the trunk to find not only a flashlight but the spare tire, a jack, and most importantly, a manual. Thank you, baby Jesus. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. A flat tire in the middle of nowhere? Things could be worse.
It could be raining.
Or …
She heard it first. The sound of another vehicle rumbling down the road. She spun around to see the lights of what looked like a pick-up truck coming straight at her.
This was the kind of worse she hadn’t wanted to contemplate.
Kate scrambled to grab her purse off the front seat of her car. It was in here somewhere…yes! She pulled out the pepper spray just as the truck rolled up behind her.
Please let it be a nice old couple offering to help me and not some crazy serial killer. Of course, just because a couple was old didn’t mean they weren’t serial killers too. She seen enough episodes of American Horror Story to back up that theory.
The truck door opened. Kate squinted, using the palm of her hand to shield her eyes from the truck lights.
“Need some help?” The voice was male. After a couple of seconds her vision adjusted to make out a man, mid-thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing steel toed boots, jeans, and a baseball cap with a Jacksonville Jaguars logo. The guy looked like he chopped lumbar for a living. From what she could see, no one else was in the truck with him.
Which meant she was now alone with a strange man in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone service. Worse just became a nightmare.
Kate tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Nope. I have everything under control. Thanks.”
“Someone coming to help you?”
“Not that I need help, but my husband will be here any second. Plus, I’ve changed lots of flat tires. Honest, I’m good. You can go now. Thanks again for stopping.”
But move along already.
His gaze went from the flat tire to the suitcases lying on the side of the road. “Where are you headed?”
None of your business, mister.
“Like I said, my husband should be here any second.”
He started toward her. “I’m not trying to make you nervous, ma’am, I’m—”
“Stop right there.” Using both hands, she held the can of mace high in the air like a weapon, aiming it straight at him. “I have two words for you. Pepper spray and I’m from south Florida.” This time she couldn’t hide the shake in her voice.
“That’s seven words.”
“What?”
“I said … never mind. I got it. You’re a badass.” His voice was laced with both amusement and exasperation. “Do not use that pepper spray on me. Understand? I’m going to go back to my truck now.” Without taking his eyes off her, he slowly walked backward until he reached his truck, then he leaned against the hood and crossed his arms over his chest.
Sweat pooled between her breasts. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
He sighed. “Look, lady, I’ve just spent eight hours clearing a field and I’m bone dead tired. I’d love nothing more than to get back in my truck so I can hit my bed, but my momma would kill me if she knew I’d left you and your pepper spray out here