Forbidden Harmony (Harmony Falls #3) - Elizabeth Kelly Page 0,14

your car.”

“Um, sure, okay.” She dug her card out of her purse and recited the number to Roberta before ending the call. She climbed out of her car. Even only a few minutes without air conditioning had made her dress stick to her back.

She kicked the front tire of her car and then slammed her hand on the hood. She’d driven to Willington before turning the car around and heading back to Harmony Falls. Her decision to take the back roads, instead of the main highway, seemed like a good one until the ticking noise grew increasingly louder, and her car made a horrible grinding noise and then just completely died. She’d steered it to the side of the road and tried to start it a few times before giving up and calling for a tow.

She kicked the tire again then pulled the front of her dress and fanned herself. God, it was so damn muggy and hot. She was wearing a lightweight button-up skater dress that she rarely wore because it fell to mid-thigh rather than her knee. Harrison always said the short hem made her look like a prostitute for a second-rate escort agency, but it was the only dress she owned with a collar. She pulled the collar aside and touched the hickey on her neck before tucking the collar back into place to hide the dark blotch.

She grabbed her phone and stared at her contacts. Her parents were in Tokyo, Daniel was working a shift at the fire station, and Kira and Gracie were busy with their boyfriends. She pressed her lips together, a little embarrassed at how weepy she was.

She didn’t have anyone to call.

Call Grace and Kira. They won’t care, Addie. They’ll come pick you up and you can join them at their barbeque and stop feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself.

No, she wouldn’t call them. She would get a ride home from Wade. She needed to realize that she was alone now and start taking care of her problems herself.

You’re gonna stand at the side of a road in ninety-degree heat because, why? To prove you’re an independent woman? Don’t be an idiot. Call your friends and –

The distant roar of a motorcycle made her stiffen. She studied the Harley that was flying down the road toward her, her stomach dropping. It was him. Of course, it was him.

For a moment, she had the stupidest urge to run to the ditch and fling her body into it. To hide and hope he didn’t see her. Thankfully, it passed quickly. She smoothed her dress down with suddenly trembling hands and patted her cheeks, hoping like hell her makeup hadn’t completely sweated off.

Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Her stomach clenched with nerves as the Harley grew closer. Maybe it wasn’t him, maybe it was some other large, tattoo-covered, motorcycle driving badass.

He slowed down as he approached and pulled the bike in just behind her car. She leaned against her car and he shut off the motorcycle. Her ears rang in the sudden silence. He put the kickstand down and swung his leg over the bike with practiced ease. He was wearing a navy-blue t-shirt with a worn leather vest and faded jeans that clung to his thick thighs.

Did his jeans have to be so tight?

He took off his helmet and scrubbed his hands through his hair. He left the helmet on the seat and ambled toward her.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Preacher.” Her voice was nervous and high-pitched, and she winced inwardly. Calling him mister seemed ridiculous after she’d had his tongue in her mouth, but it just popped out.

“Afternoon, Miss Moore,” he said.

Her breath caught in her throat when he moved closer, but he simply walked by her, popped the hood latch and lifted the hood. He bent over her car, staring at the engine.

“It was making a ticking sound and then a grinding sound, and then it died,” she said.

“Your car is a piece of shit,” he said.

“Um, yes, I know.”

She watched silently as he poked and prodded at the engine before straightening. “Your engine is shot.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m good with cars,” he said. “You’ll probably need a whole new engine.”

“Shoot. Okay, well, thanks.”

He stared at the phone in her hands. “You call for your fiancé?”

She jerked in surprise, nearly dropping her phone on the hot pavement at her feet. He didn’t know she and Harrison had broken up. Holy crap. He didn’t know.