checked her mirrors before moving the truck back into her lane. Immediately she heard a flapping sound and felt the hard pull in the steering wheel.
“Oh my God, you’re kidding me,” she complained loudly, slapping the steering wheel when she’d only succeeded in pulling closer to the dead animal as she maneuvered the truck into her lane, then parked alongside the road. Now she had to deal with a flat tire.
Her cell phone didn’t have a signal. She held it up before her, to her side, even out her window. Nothing. She couldn’t use her phone to call for help. Why hadn’t she pushed her aunt and uncle into activating the roadside assistance program that had come with the truck? She was completely on her own with this ordeal.
Too bad the sexy sheriff hadn’t decided to follow her from the diner, instead of trying to pretend he didn’t know she was there. What an unpredictable man! He’d been all over her earlier, but when both of them were in a public diner he’d never sought her out. Natasha hadn’t complained when the waitress sat her with her back facing Trent. She’d used her compact to confirm he’d remained sitting facing her backside the entire time she’d been there. And the tingles up and down her spine throughout her meal were proof enough he’d seldom taken his eyes off her.
“Wouldn’t he just love playing the knight in shining armor come to rescue the damsel in distress?” Natasha grabbed her flashlight as she slid out of the truck and closed the door, which turned off the interior light and engulfed her in darkness. “And I don’t suppose there is roadside assistance out here,” she grumbled under her breath.
She flipped on the flashlight, giving the dead beast in the road a speculative look. “You’d be smart to stay dead. Do you hear me?” she asked the deer, waving her flashlight at him. Then glancing around at the incredibly dark night, she hopped back into the truck and fished out the small pistol in the glove box.
She’d fired a gun a few times over the years, although mostly during target practice Uncle Greg had taken her and her cousins to when he had time while they were growing up. Uncle Greg believed they needed to understand and respect weapons. It had been an education Natasha had taken to heart. And it gave her a bit of reassurance when she slipped out into the chilly night once again.
Natasha tucked the cold metal inside the back of her jeans, feeling the hard, chilled outline of it pressed against her rear end. It seemed to drop her body temperature a bit and she shivered. It looked a lot cooler when she watched cops and bad guys stuff their guns into their pants in movies. In real life the thing bugged her, didn’t feel really secure, and made it hard to squat down next to the deflated tire when she reached the back of the truck.
Now to remember the lesson on changing tires. She glanced up and down the road, not seeing a soul or any indication of headlights. Natasha shifted in her squatting pose and searched the other highway she would have turned onto if she hadn’t run into the dead deer, or almost run into him. There wasn’t any sign of life down that road, either. An eerie sensation that she was completely alone in this inky black night unnerved her and she shuddered, insisting her imagination choose another time to go overactive on her.
Glancing the way she’d come one more time, Natasha aimed the flashlight beam down the road, honestly surprised the sheriff hadn’t followed her. Either he had something better to do with his time that night, the waitress hadn’t shared her question-and-answer session with Natasha with him, or he wasn’t concerned with her desire to check out Trinity Ranch.
What the hell had she thought to accomplish by driving by the ranch anyway? It was dark as hell and getting colder by the moment.
“Damn it,” she grumbled, not seeing anyone on the road.
The tire wouldn’t change itself and she wasn’t going to leave her
“Oh my God, you’re kidding me,” she complained loudly, slapping the steering wheel when she’d only succeeded in pulling closer to the dead animal as she maneuvered the truck into her lane, then parked alongside the road. Now she had to deal with a flat tire.
Her cell phone didn’t have a signal. She held it up before her, to her side, even out her window. Nothing. She couldn’t use her phone to call for help. Why hadn’t she pushed her aunt and uncle into activating the roadside assistance program that had come with the truck? She was completely on her own with this ordeal.
Too bad the sexy sheriff hadn’t decided to follow her from the diner, instead of trying to pretend he didn’t know she was there. What an unpredictable man! He’d been all over her earlier, but when both of them were in a public diner he’d never sought her out. Natasha hadn’t complained when the waitress sat her with her back facing Trent. She’d used her compact to confirm he’d remained sitting facing her backside the entire time she’d been there. And the tingles up and down her spine throughout her meal were proof enough he’d seldom taken his eyes off her.
“Wouldn’t he just love playing the knight in shining armor come to rescue the damsel in distress?” Natasha grabbed her flashlight as she slid out of the truck and closed the door, which turned off the interior light and engulfed her in darkness. “And I don’t suppose there is roadside assistance out here,” she grumbled under her breath.
She flipped on the flashlight, giving the dead beast in the road a speculative look. “You’d be smart to stay dead. Do you hear me?” she asked the deer, waving her flashlight at him. Then glancing around at the incredibly dark night, she hopped back into the truck and fished out the small pistol in the glove box.
She’d fired a gun a few times over the years, although mostly during target practice Uncle Greg had taken her and her cousins to when he had time while they were growing up. Uncle Greg believed they needed to understand and respect weapons. It had been an education Natasha had taken to heart. And it gave her a bit of reassurance when she slipped out into the chilly night once again.
Natasha tucked the cold metal inside the back of her jeans, feeling the hard, chilled outline of it pressed against her rear end. It seemed to drop her body temperature a bit and she shivered. It looked a lot cooler when she watched cops and bad guys stuff their guns into their pants in movies. In real life the thing bugged her, didn’t feel really secure, and made it hard to squat down next to the deflated tire when she reached the back of the truck.
Now to remember the lesson on changing tires. She glanced up and down the road, not seeing a soul or any indication of headlights. Natasha shifted in her squatting pose and searched the other highway she would have turned onto if she hadn’t run into the dead deer, or almost run into him. There wasn’t any sign of life down that road, either. An eerie sensation that she was completely alone in this inky black night unnerved her and she shuddered, insisting her imagination choose another time to go overactive on her.
Glancing the way she’d come one more time, Natasha aimed the flashlight beam down the road, honestly surprised the sheriff hadn’t followed her. Either he had something better to do with his time that night, the waitress hadn’t shared her question-and-answer session with Natasha with him, or he wasn’t concerned with her desire to check out Trinity Ranch.
What the hell had she thought to accomplish by driving by the ranch anyway? It was dark as hell and getting colder by the moment.
“Damn it,” she grumbled, not seeing anyone on the road.
The tire wouldn’t change itself and she wasn’t going to leave her
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