Delivering Destiny (River's End Ranch Book 23)
Page 9
“What’s up?”
“You’re out of gas.”
What? “How…?” How could she be out of gas? Surely she wasn’t that clueless, was she? She sighed, thanking God that her father wasn’t here to see this lately debacle. “How can you tell?”
“Well, there’s nothing else wrong with the car that I can see. I mean, I’m not a professional” —his voice turned a little bitter there, for some reason— “but unless it’s something pretty exotic, I probably would’ve caught it. But if there’s gas in the tank, it’s only fumes.”
“Great.” She slumped against the car once more. “What am I supposed to do now?” She supposed that she should be grateful it wasn’t anything more serious—like a broken engine or whatever—but she’d run out of gas. How embarrassing. “I mean, I’d noticed that the gauge was wonky—the last few times I’d filled up it wasn’t registering correctly. It’s been on my list, but I figured that as long as I kept track of when I filled up and how many miles I’d driven…”
She trailed off, realizing that she was rambling. Sneaking a glance at the stranger, she wasn’t surprised to see that he was smiling. Laughing at her? Or maybe he just liked to smile.
“Well, come on, it’s an easy fix.” He was walking backwards towards his bike.
His enthusiasm was contagious, apparently. Charley slowly straightened. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s a station back that way a bit.” He jerked his thumb in the way he’d come. “I saw it. I’ll just take you there and back.”
“Oh, no,” she quickly assured him. “I couldn’t ask—”
“You don’t have to ask. I’m volunteering.” His grin grew as he reached for the helmet on his bike. “I like the idea of being a hero for once. Rescuing a damsel in distress and all.”
A damsel in distress? Charley found herself bristling. She was hardly a damsel. Sure, she was petite, but she was a strong, capable, independent woman who could stand on her own two feet and didn’t need a man rescuing her.
Her shoulders drooped slightly. Unless it has to do with cars, apparently.
Still, his claim had made her irritated. She didn’t like having to be rescued. She liked things to go exactly how they were supposed to. According to plan. But apparently that plan didn’t include a working car.
“You’ve only got one helmet,” she blurted, looking for an excuse. “I can’t ride with you.”
“Nah, it’s okay,” he drawled, holding the helmet out to her.
Holding her hands out in front of her, as if to ward off the idea, Charley shook her head. “I couldn’t take your helmet. It wouldn’t be safe. What if we crashed? What if we were stopped?” It wasn’t against the law to ride without a helmet in Idaho, as long as they were over eighteen—which he obviously was—but it wasn’t exactly safe, either.
“We’ll be fine.” He shoved the helmet into her hands. “And we won’t be stopped.” He grinned crookedly again, and Charley felt her knees—and resolve—weaken. “After all, you’re not a cop, are you?”
You’re not a cop, are you? He hadn’t meant the question to mock her—she could see that he was only joking—but it still hit Charley in the gut, like the time she’d broken up that bar brawl single-handedly.
“No, I’m not a cop.” Not anymore. She raised her chin, and snatched the helmet from him. I’m not a cop, she thought defiantly. I don’t have to be so meticulous all the time. It’s not like Dad’s watching, is he?
And when she settled the helmet over her head, she forgot all about her father. Unfamiliar—but oh-so-intriguing—male scents surrounded her, reminding her that this was her mysterious stranger’s helmet. He’d been wearing it just a few minutes ago, and she pretended that it still held some of the warmth of his body, as well as the scents of whatever mint he’d been sucking on recently.
Was she seriously doing this? She was climbing on the back of a motorcycle with a man she didn’t know—didn’t even know his name!—just to prove to herself that she wasn’t a goody-two-shoes? Charley grabbed the back of the man’s coat as he walked the bike off the shoulder, and grinned slightly in the privacy of his helmet.
Apparently, she was.
About Amelia C. Adams
Amelia C. Adams is a wife, a mother, and a novelist. She spends her days dreaming up stories and her nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you might just see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels.
She loves all things historical and enjoys learning about days gone by, but she's glad she was born more recently (she won't say how recently or not recently) because the Internet is awesome, and she's glad she doesn't have to wash her clothes by hand in a galvanized tub. She has hit Amazon bestseller status three times.
You can reach Amelia at ameliaadamsauthor@gmail.com.
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The Kansas Crossroads Series:
A New Beginning (free!)
A Free Heart
The Dark and the Dawn
A Clean Slate
A Clear Hope
The Whisper of Morning
A Careless Wind
A Narrow Road
The Bitter and the Sweet
The Calm of Night
A Begrudging Bride
A Broken Wing (A Kansas Crossroads novella)
A Twisted Fate
An Unspoken Dream
The Nurses of New York series:
Sea of Strangers (free!)
Cause of Conflict
Touch of Tenderness
Heart of Hearts
Test of Time
The American Mail-Order Brides series:
Hope: Bride of New Jersey
Tabitha: Bride of Missouri
The Hearts of Nashville series:
Whiskey and Women
Records and Rebels
As part of the Brides of Beckham series by Kirsten Osbourne:
Mail Order Molly
As part of the River’s End Ranch series:
Accidental Agent
Rugged Rockclimber
Welcome Wagon
Santa’s Shopkeeper
As part of the Grandma’s Wedding Quilts series:
Meredith’s Mistake
As part of the Magnolias and Moonshine series:
Sweet Georgia Peach
As part of the Burnt River series:
Ashley’s Hope
As part of the Rocky Mountain Romances series:
Utah Sunrise