Tryst (Take It Off #8)(14)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Just to make sure no one tries to kill ya.”

He grinned. His teeth glowed against the night. A little chuckle floated between us and then he stuck that red lollipop back into his mouth.

I squeezed my legs together. Suddenly, I felt really squirmy, like standing still was impossible.

“You’re just going to sit there?”

“Yep.”

Alrighty then. I walked back to my car but stopped halfway there and looked back. He hadn’t moved.

I felt confident enough to place my cell in the front seat of my car. But rather than climbing in, I went around to the front, where the hood was still open. There was really no reason to leave it that way. I wasn’t going to fix it. I would just let the mechanic do that. Hopefully I could get the tow guy to drop me at Aunt Ruth’s place before carting my car off to wherever it was going to go.

I slammed the hood shut and stared down at the traitorous metal. If I didn’t need it to drive back to Raleigh, I’d tell them to take it to the junkyard.

“Stupid car that stupid Blake insisted I keep for just one more year,” I muttered. “Just one more year and I’ll buy you whatever you want.” What kind of man buys himself a brand-new car and let’s his wife drive a bucket of bolts?

I spun away to stomp back to the driver’s seat. But I didn’t make it very far. My foot got tangled in the ruined drive belt coiled on the ground. I pitched forward, the stupid thing refusing to let me go. My arms shot out as I tried to balance, but it was no use. I went tumbling over, tangling up in the black strap even more.

I let out a screech and hit the ground. The hard-packed dirt was jarring against my side. I rolled, trying to get up but couldn’t. I pushed up onto my hands and feet (kind of like a downward dog position) and lifted one sandal-clad foot up and over. The belt pulled taut and sent me falling to the side. Unfortunately for me, I rolled down a hill.

I probably shouldn’t have parked so close to the bridge and where it started to rise because the ground started to fall away.

I think I hit every pebble, every shell, and every stick on the way down the short little hill. “Ow!” I yelled as the stuff poked at me.

I skidded past a large bush of some kind, and I reached out, grasping it around the base with my hand. Finally, I stopped falling.

I lay there breathing rapidly, blinking the dirt and sand out of my eyes.

“This is what I get for trying to get away on vacation,” I muttered as I yanked myself up into a sitting position. Not far off to the side was the water. If I’d kept going, I would have splashed right into the sound.

Squeezing pain cut into my thoughts as I became aware of a portion of the shredded belt wound around my ankle. It was being pulled and cutting into my skin. I rolled sideways, pulling the length out from under me and reaching down to untangle it from my skin.

Stinging from a few scrapes and cuts on my short-clad legs presented itself, and I sighed. I fought with the chord for long moments, unable to get it off. I was about to yell in frustration when the dark shape of a man came over the hill and started toward me.

I knew it was the guy who wasn’t going to kill me. I gave up on the belt tangled around me and watched as he stepped down the short hill with ease. He looked so graceful and self-assured, and here I was a lump that couldn’t even close the hood of her car.

I was about to tell him I had the situation handled when he crouched down beside me. His closeness was unsettling. Not because I was afraid, but because I liked it. It was almost like a cloud had drifted and revealed the sun. The heat coming off his body was intoxicating. I hadn’t even realized how cold I was until he showed me.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.

“No, I’m just tangled up.”

He shook his head and pulled out what looked like a Swiss Army knife from his jeans. The moonlight glinted off the blade when he flicked it open.

My hackles raised as my heart started to pound when he reached for me. I jerked away and he grunted. “I’m going to cut you lose. Don’t move. You’ll just get tangled more.”

His fingers worked their way between my skin and the taut piece of chord wrapped around my ankle. I shivered and he paused. I felt his stare from beneath the brim of his hat, but I didn’t dare look up. I couldn’t. If I did, he might see I wasn’t shivering because I was cold.

His skin was smooth. Smooth as satin. There wasn’t a callous or rough spot on his hand. Even though he had to squeeze his touch beneath the belt, he was still gentle, like he honestly cared if he hurt me.

“Hold still,” he said again, this time his voice a mere whisper. With a deft hand, he slid the blade under the chord and within seconds sliced through the bind. Once it was cut, he worked quickly to unwind the rest from my leg.

After he tossed it aside, his hands skimmed down my calf and my eyes closed. When was the last time someone touched me? Like really touched me?

I didn’t know the answer.

And that realization made me incredibly sad. Emotion welled up in me and I fought against it. This wasn’t the time to cry. This wasn’t the time to decide I was some withering violet, because I most certainly was not.

“Are you cut?” he asked, smoothing his hands over the area that had been confined.

I cleared my throat. “I don’t think so.”

“Is it around you anywhere else?”

Was it wrong I wished it was? “No.”

He removed his hands quickly, and I felt like a complete idiot for wishing they’d lingered. “Good,” he said, standing. On his feet, he towered over me, making me feel vulnerable and weak. I didn’t like to feel that way.

I started to stand and he reached for me, slipping his palm beneath my arm, and lifted, helping me to my feet. Even after I was standing, he kept hold of me, guiding my steps as I freed both my feet from the rest of the shredded belt.

“This is your fault, you know,” I told him, kicking at the black stuff.

“My fault?” he choked.

“You’re the one who piled this crap on the ground where I could trip and fall.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve known you all of five minutes and even I know you would trip and fall over the wind. You certainly didn’t need my help to go rolling down this hill.”

I pulled my arm from his grasp, suddenly hating the way my body tingled beneath his touch. “Whatever,” I retorted (yeah, it was the best I could come up with) and stomped up the hill.

When I got there, another pair of headlights was approaching and a large tow truck pulled up near my car.