Concern had gone right out the window. Now he was just pissed. How hard could it be to just drive in a straight line without swerving all over the place? How hard could it be to just get out of the way before slowing down so much that you cause an accident?
Burke took the car out of gear, cranked the parking brake, and shut off the engine. After climbing out of the car, he hurried to survey the damage. The shiny grill showed the slightest dent, indicating where he’d nicked the truck’s bumper.
A dozen possibilities came to mind as he considered how to address the driver.
Hey, buddy, try getting a driver’s license before getting behind the wheel next time.
Or, You’ll be glad to know that I’ve called the authorities and told them to bring their handcuffs—one of us is gonna end up in them.
Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he marched toward the driver’s side window, the words what the freak is wrong with you, man? taking the lead.
He peered through the glass, ready to take in the face of his offender, when the sight of curly blonde locks caught his gaze. Okay, so it was a woman. He calmed down a notch as he folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to exit the truck.
She didn’t.
In fact, the woman had turned in the seat and was focused on something beside her. Sparks of irritation flared as he balled his hand into a fist. Yet just as he readied to tap the glass, a sad sounding whimper stopped him cold.
Crying. Great, she was crying.
His readied fist hovered less than an inch from the window as his shoulders slumped. His irritation level might not be as high as it was, but it hadn’t dwindled much either. Maybe he should walk away, not get involved.
Before the thought could even take root the woman darted a look over her shoulder. At the same time, she flung open the door and cracked him right in the shin. The sharp and sudden pain had him stifling another curse.
Geez, was this lady trying to kill him?
“Sorry,” the woman sobbed as Burke cupped his shin with a hand. Blood seeped through his suit pants and onto his palm. He glanced up, summoning something other than yeah right, and met eyes with her at last.
Wide green eyes, long lashes that were wet with tears, and flushed cheeks that glistened as she pushed an unruly lock from her face.
His breath hitched. Whoa. She was…stunning.
“She’s dead,” the woman sobbed.
Burke leaned far over to see what she was referring to. He caught sight of a shallow box first, the corner of a flannel blanket within, and then came a sight that made his stomach churn—a calico paw.
He groaned and pulled away. She was the country woman he’d feared affecting, and the cat he’d hit was her something warm to cuddle up to.
“Who does this?” she asked with a sniff. “Who just carelessly runs over a soft, beautiful creature like this and then leaves it on the street to die?”
Burke took his hand off the wound and straightened up. “It was…probably killed on impact,” he pointed out, but the woman was already hunched over the poor thing again and wiping at tears.
The sight, combined with her broken cry, tangled Burke’s emotions into burning knots in his gut. “I, um…I don’t think you’re in the best condition to be driving right now,” he said softly. “How about I call you a tow truck and take you home myself?”
“It’s Frank,” she said with a sniff.
Burke’s brow furrowed. “The cat is?”
“No, the towing guy. He’s nice and everything, but he overcharges because he’s the only one within miles who can do it.”
“I don’t mind paying. Please, it’s…” Why were the words the least he could do ready to roll off his lips? She was the one who’d turned this moment into a living hell. What had he done?
You killed her cat, you moron.
“I’d be happy to,” he said instead. After all, he couldn’t exactly tell her that he’d been the creep who’d left it on the side of the road.
She sniffed. “Frank will probably tow it home for me for free.”
There, finally something he’d expect from a small town girl—she probably knew everyone in town.
She cracked open the glove box and pulled out a tissue. “I was trying to jostle her, you know? In case…in case there was a chance. I mean, Doc Jensen…he’s the vet. He’s amazing, but …”
She’d been trying to save her obviously dead cat? The guilt in his gut was growing heavier by the second. Burke’s brow furrowed as he noticed the woman was shuffling in the seat, tucking her arms under the box and…oh, scooting off the seat to exit the truck.
“Mind grabbing my groceries?” she asked as her shoes—a pair of rather small-looking hiking boots, hit the ground.
“Um, no. Not at all.” The tangy scent of strawberry wafted through the air as she brushed past him. The same scent was even stronger within the cab, he realized as he snatched two reusable grocery sacks off the seat. He took the keys from the ignition next and, just as he moved to pull back and close the door, spotted a purse on the floor of the truck. At least, he figured it was a purse.
“Do you want me to grab your bag too?” Couldn’t very well leave it sitting in plain view.
“Yes, please.”
Burke stretched an arm out and hooked his fingers around the twill strap. This was definitely not like the fancy bags he was used to seeing in New York. Or LA for that matter. This chick might not be what he imagined a country girl would be like, but between the truck, the boots, and her bag she was definitely different from the women he knew.
She was interesting. And trusting too, allowing a stranger to grab her purse, not to mention accepting a ride from him.
Burke’s protective nature sparked up as he considered what this scenario might look like if he were a different sort of man. One who took advantage of or even harmed women. The very idea caused an icy streak to dart through his chest. He bumped the old fashioned lock with his fist, slammed the door closed, then spun back to see that the blonde was…gone.
He looked sharply over his shoulder but still came up empty. “Hello?” he blurted, feeling startled now.
“Back here.” The sound of her distant voice came from further behind him—all the way back to his BMW. There she stood next to the passenger side, cradling the box with one arm while reaching for the handle. Burke watched as she pried open the door, pushed it open with her hip, and proceeded to climb in.
“Huh. Okay…”
It was another display of how comfortable she felt with him—a perfect stranger blowing through town. As much as it unnerved him, and it did unnerve him, a small part of him was charmed by it too. She was unlike anyone he’d met.
With her groceries tucked into one fist, the purse strap caught in the other, Burke made his way toward his car, the pretty stranger and her dead-because-of-him cat in the box. Perhaps this, like the weird game show he’d dreamed about, wasn’t reality at all. If that were the case, he would be disappointed to wake up; Burke wanted to see where this would lead.
He fought the urge to peer at the groceries tucked into the bags as he walked; he was hungry for added layers to the enigma before him. He spotted an avocado through the sack as he lowered it behind the driver’s seat, but that was all he could identify with the obscured view.