Chapter 2

2

ROB

I didn't have time for a car accident. Not today, not with everything else going on. But as my pickup slammed into what had to be the smallest car I'd ever seen, my concerns shifted.

I'd hit the brakes the second I'd seen the silver obstacle in my lane. But there wasn't enough time to slow down much. I'd simply seen it far too late.

With a crunch of metal that had to have been heard for miles, my truck hit the vehicle, pushing it off to the other side of the road. In the seconds before our cars made contact, I got a brief look at the driver. It was enough of a glimpse to see a woman with her hair in a ponytail, eyes wide with fear. If she was seriously injured—or worse—in this accident, that face would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

Once both vehicles stopped moving, a long, ominous silence filled the air. I, for one, was frozen, still in shock over what had just happened.

And then my combat training kicked in. I hopped out of the car and ran to her driver's-side door. Cars caught fire after accidents. It was unlikely to happen, but I couldn't be too careful.

I had to get her out of there either way. As I tugged on the door, it opened easily. With so much adrenaline pumping through my body, it took me a second to realize she was stepping out. The door was moving toward me, revealing a long, shapely, bare leg.

"Motherfucker," a feminine voice cried out.

I took a few more steps back, just in case she was coming out punching, but her focus wasn't on me. She turned and stared at her car. It looked far better on this side than the other. But my full attention was on her. In fact, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. Downright sexy. She had curves for days, and she wore a tank top and shorts that did little to conceal her figure. In fact, those breasts strained the fabric of the tank top so much, I wondered why the seams hadn't burst yet.

"Are you okay?" I somehow managed to force out.

It was like the words had been queued up and when I didn't speak them, they came out on their own. She looked okay. She looked better than okay, but that didn't mean she wasn't in pain.

"I'm fine," she said, walking around the tail of her car. "But I don't think Serena is going to survive."

Serena? Was there someone else in the car? A pet? A human? A kid? Oh God, please let it not be a kid. But the low level of emotion in her voice told me it was far less serious than a human victim.

"My car," she said. "Serena's all mangled."

I'd known guys who'd named their cars. I always wanted to punch them in the nuts. I wasn't sure how to take a beautiful woman naming her car.

"I know a good auto body shop in Knoxville," I said. "They can bang that right out."

She was on the other side of the car, and that comment had her lifting her head to stare at me. At least, I assumed she was staring at me. She wore sunglasses, so it was hard to say for sure.

"Maybe you should come around here and take a look at it," she said. "Oh, shit." She covered her mouth and looked down at the damage. "This is my only way to get around. Can I rent a car around here?"

I almost laughed out loud at that question. There was one auto repair shop in town, and it couldn't fix anything like this. I didn't even know where someone would go to rent a car.

"We should file an accident report," she said. "Let me get my phone."

I whipped my cell out of my pocket. "I'll give Garth a call."

"Garth?" she asked.

I pulled up Garth's number in my contacts and tapped on it as I replied, "Town sheriff."

"Of course you're friends with the town sheriff," she said under her breath. "Just my luck."

I frowned, puzzling over that statement. Did she think because I had Garth in my contacts, he'd automatically rule this accident as her fault? It was clearly her fault. She'd pulled in front of me. No way could I have seen her on the other side of that hill until it was too late. There wasn't much else I could have done, aside from staying home.

"Hey man," I said when Garth picked up. "I need you to come out and write up an accident report. We're in front of the market."

A couple of seconds later, I had Garth on the way. I shoved my phone into my back pocket and joined the driver on the other side of her vehicle.

"It won't take long," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and surveying the damage. "Yeah, that will take more than a banging out."

"Do you think it's drivable?"

She looked over at me then, and something inside me leaped to life. A long-forgotten feeling from my youth. I was attracted to this woman, and not just for sex. I was drawn to her, like I'd been drawn to Katie Cosby in fifth grade and Megan Holt in middle school.

Sometime around high school, I had my heart stomped on enough to learn to protect it, and that was when I started focusing more on sex than love. I thought it was the only thing I was capable of at this point in my life.

Maybe I was wrong.

"It's definitely not drivable," I said. "But I can give you a ride. Are you staying in town?"

God, I hoped she was, and not just because I didn't want to drive her an hour away. No, I needed to keep this woman as close as possible until I could figure out my reaction to her.

"I reserved a room at the Rosewood Ridge Retreat Center," she said. "Have you heard of it?"

I held back a smile at that question. In Rosewood Ridge, someone would have to be living under a rock to miss the retreat center. It had taken over this town since it opened a few years ago. People came here from all over to spend a week in the mountains in a place that had a spa, a pool, its own restaurant, and an events center.

"I'm familiar," I said, nodding. "I can run you by there. Are you in town on business?"

She bit her lip. There was something she wasn't saying. I didn't like secrets.

"I'm a journalist," she said. "I'm here to report on the tornado damage."

Oh, crap, she was a member of the media. That meant I had to watch what I said. I definitely didn't want my name or face on some news site. I was a private person. Always had been, always would be.

"After we do the report, could you take me over to that neighborhood where the sign's damaged?" she asked.

She pointed in the direction of Sugarplum Farms. That was the neighborhood that had the vast majority of tornado damage. I was helping out there today.

"Sure," I said. "Just do me a favor."

"What's that?"

She had a smile on her face, and I knew my next words would wipe it right off. But they had to be said.

"Keep me out of your reporting. I don't want anything to do with it."