I move away from the hood, making like I’m going to get back in the car, but Mr. Pickup Truck moves too, coming to stand close to me. Too close. Close enough that I can smell his sweat under his aftershave.
“You headed into Silver Falls?” he asks. “Or past it? I can tell you there’s not much past it for a stretch.”
“That’s okay.”
“Yeah?” He looks me up and down, and I swallow hard, wishing I was wearing more than cut off jean shorts and a t-shirt. His eyes linger on my legs, on the curves of my waist, on the fullness of my chest. I usually cover up more, but it’s a hot day, and I’d planned to be in the car for most of it. “You got someone waiting for you?”
“Yes,” I say firmly, trying to edge my way back to the car. This fucker is between me and my niece, and I don’t want her to see this. “And if I’m gone too long, he’ll come looking for me anyway. So I’m fine.”
“You want someone to wait with you?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
He leans in, inhaling a bit like he’s trying to get a whiff of me—not subtle. “You shouldn’t turn me down,” he says, his voicepitching lower. “It’s not right for pretty little Omegas like you to be alone on these mountain roads.”
My stomach drops when he says that. There’s no mistaking the predatory look in his eyes or the intention behind his words. My heart starts hammering in my chest. I’m not small or helpless, but Mr. Pickup Truck has a lot of muscle on me. If Lettie was running, I’d knee him in the junk and be on my way, but like this, there’s nowhere to go. Even if I snatched Cora out of the car and ran with her, he could run us down in his truck and?—
I swallow back bile, trying not to catastrophize.
“Tell you what,” the guy murmurs, moving in even closer to me. “Why don’t we wait for your car to calm down back at my place? I’ll take care of you, and your man never has to know.”
Panic roars through me, my heartbeat loud in my ears. I lean away from him as much as I can without moving away from the car. “That’s really okay,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as shaky as I feel. “I appreciate it, but?—”
Another truck coasts up beside us as I’m speaking, moving around to get in front of my car. Being pinned in like this makes me feel nauseous, but it’s not like I was going anywhere in the car anyway.
The door opens, and a man steps down out of the cab, looking like something out of a damned romance novel. He’s gorgeous, I can admit that much. Tall, and lean, but with the kind of muscles that you get from hard work. His short sleeved shirt shows off his toned arms, and his dark wash jeans follow the lines of his long legs. He’s got a brown leather cowboy hat on, but he takes it off when he approaches, shaking rich brown and golden hair back from his face.
He walks with confidence, clearly an Alpha, and even though he has an easy smile on his face, I can sense the danger that lurks under his skin. Dangerous but controlled.
Fuck, this isbad.
If the two of them know each other…
If they’re both trying to take advantage of me…
I need a plan. I need?—
Tall, bright, and handsome moves over to me, sliding an arm around my waist with casual possessiveness. He’s warm and solid, and it’s completely unexpected. I jump a little at the contact, but then he smiles at me, and I freeze.
“Sorry I’m late, darlin’,” he says with just enough of that small town country twang to be endearing. His honey colored eyes stay locked on Mr. Pickup Truck, and there’s an unmistakable warning there. “Who’s this?”
He sounds like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, but there’s steel underneath, the proof that he’s not fucking around. I’m shocked—both from his sudden appearance and the way he’s stepping in to help—but all I can really do is play along.
“He pulled over to see if he could help,” I tell him. “I was telling him that I’m fine.”
“That so?” He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “Well, any help she needs is taken care of, so you can go on your way now.”
Mr. Pickup Truck doesn’t even argue. He immediately backs down, clearly recognizing an Alpha when he sees one.
Smart move.
“Have a good day,” he says and walks quickly back to his truck, getting in and driving on down the road.
The cowboy doesn’t let me go until the other truck has gone over the hill and disappeared, but then he immediately steps away, putting a much more appropriate distance between us. All the possessive bravado melts away and he smiles gently, transforming his whole face from intimidating to… well, devastating in a completely different way.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “I saw you standing there with him, and I couldn’t just keep driving by.”
“I—thank you.”