Run To You

her doors were locked and put the car into reverse. The early evening sunlight poured through the back window as she reversed out onto the highway, then drove up alongside the road toward the big truck.
    The warm light bathed the side of his face as the man moved toward her. He was the kind of guy who made Sadie a little uncomfortable. The kind who wore leather and drank beer and crushed empties on their foreheads. The kind who made her stand a little straighter. The kind she avoided like a hot fudge brownie because both were bad news for her thighs.
    She stopped and hit the power button on her door handle. The window slowly lowered halfway, and she looked up. Way up past the hard muscle beneath his tight black T-shirt, his wide shoulders and thick neck. It was an hour past his five o’clock shadow, and dark whiskers shaded the bottom half of his face and his square jaw. “Trouble?”
    “Yeah.” His voice came from someplace deep. Like it was dragged up from his soul.
    “How long have you been stuck out here?”
    “About an hour.”
    “Run out of gas?”
    “No,” he answered, sounding annoyed that he might be confused for the kind of guy who’d run out of gas. Like that somehow insulted his masculinity. “It’s either the alternator or timing belt.”
    “Could be your fuel pump.”
    One corner of his mouth twitched up. “It’s getting fuel. No power.”
    “Where you headed?”
    “Lovett.”
    She’d figured that since there wasn’t much else down the road. Not that Lovett was much. “I’ll call you a tow truck.”
    He raised his gaze and looked down the highway. “I’d appreciate it.”
    She punched the number to information and got connected with B.J. Henderson’s garage. She’d gone to school with B.J.’s son, B.J. Junior, who everyone called Boner. Yeah, Boner. The last she’d heard, Boner worked for his dad. The answering machine picked up and she glanced at the clock in her dash. It was five minutes after six. She hung up and didn’t bother to call another garage. It was an hour and five minutes past Lone Star time, and Boner and the other mechanics in town were either at home or holding down a barstool.
    She looked up at the man, past that amazing chest, and figured she had two choices. She could take the stranger to her daddy’s ranch and have one of her father’s men take him into town, or take him herself. Driving to the ranch would take ten minutes up the dirt road. It would take twenty to twenty-five to take him into town.
    She stared into the shadow cast over his profile. She’d rather a stranger didn’t know where she lived. “I have a stun gun.” It was a lie, but she’d always wanted one.
    He looked back down at her. “Excuse me?”
    “I have a stun gun and I’ve been trained to use it.” He took a step back from the car and she smiled. “I’m deadly.”
    “A stun gun isn’t a deadly weapon.”
    “What if I set it really high?”
    “Can’t set it high enough to kill unless there is a preexisting condition. I don’t have a preexisting condition.”
    “How do you know all that?”
    “I used to be in security.”
    Oh. “Well, it will hurt like hell if I have to zap your ass.”
    “I don’t want my ass zapped, lady. I just need a tow into town.”
    “Garages are all closed.” She tossed her phone in the cup holder. “I’ll drive you into Lovett, but you have to show me some identification first.”
    Annoyance pulled one corner of his mouth as he reached into the back pocket of his Levi’s, and for the first time, her gaze dropped to his five-button fly.
    Good Lord .
    Without a word, he pulled out a driver’s license and passed it through the window.
    Sadie might have cause to feel a little pervy about staring at his impressive package if it hadn’t been sort of framed in her window. “Great.” She punched up a few numbers on her cell and waited for Renee to pick up. “Hi, Renee. It’s Sadie again. Gotta pen?” She looked at the hunk of man junk in front of her and waited. “I’m giving a stranded guy a ride into town. So, write this down.” She gave her friend the Washington driver’s license number and added, “Vincent James Haven. 4389 North Central Avenue, Kent, Washington. Hair: brown. Eyes: green. Six foot and a hundred and ninety pounds. Got it? Great. If you don’t hear from me in an hour, call the Potter County sheriff’s office in Texas and tell them I’ve been abducted and you fear for my life. Give them the information that I