“I know. Believe me, I know. If it wasn’t, I’d already have the stupid spare out of the stupid rack and the stupid truck jacked up so I could change the stupid tire,” she snapped right back. Now that she knew the babies could hear her, cussing felt wrong.
He crouched down. “Come out from under there.”
She closed her eyes, knowing she should listen. The bolt was stuck, the tire was stuck—she was stuck.
“Dammit, Renata. I know you’re mad at me, but it’s too cold for you to do this now.”
He was right. But—
“The cold isn’t good for the babies. Please get up,” he said, crouching and peering under the truck. Arm extended, he reached out to her.
How could she argue with that? She couldn’t. And he knew it. But she wasn’t about to take more help than was necessary. She slid out, carefully, leaning aside so as not to hit her head on the rear bumper. But once she was sitting up, the effects of the cold were harder to ignore. Try as she might, she couldn’t pull herself up.
He held his hand out again. “Let me help.”
She glared up at him before taking his hand, hating the instant warmth that his touch caused. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about tonight was fair. Except he’s here and we’re not stuck on the side of the road all night long in freezing temperatures. Not that this moment of clarity stopped her from shoving her hands into her pockets and looking his way.
But he was shining a light on the flat. “Someone coming to help fix this?”
“I’ve got it.”
She heard Ash’s sigh.
“I can change a flat,” she added.
He stared at her, his anger surprising her. “I’m sure you can, Renata. But whether you can or not, you shouldn’t be. It’s freezing. And late. And dark.” He pulled her hands from her pockets and rubbed them between his. “Your hands are like ice cubes. Where are your gloves?”
“Where are yours?” She stared at their hands. Big hands. Rough hands. Warm. She had very fond memories of his hands. Really? She was going to go there now? But her attempt to pull her hands away failed as his hold tightened on hers.
“Renata.” That tone. All soft and deep and spine tingling. Warning bells sounded.
“No, Ash.” She yanked her hands from his. There would be no spine tingles tonight. “Leave me alone.”
Another sigh. “That’s not going to happen. I will take you home—”
“I’m not going home,” she interrupted him, doing her best not to shiver.
He stared at her, his face too shadowed for her to clearly read what was going through his brain. Still, the hoarse “Please,” tugged at something inside. “Tomorrow, when it’s light, we’ll get your tire changed and you can go to Fire Gorge.”
“How did you know where I was going?” she asked.
“I didn’t. I hoped. All I knew was you were gone. Your dad said something about Fire Gorge once—how it was your place to get away. I figured, after tonight, you’d want to get away. So I started driving, hoping.”
There were so many things about what he said that weakened her resolve to stay mad.
His voice was soft. “I get that you’re mad at me, but I’d like to apologize—”
“An apology?” Her throat was tight. She braced herself.
“Apologize. Grovel. Beg—right here, on my knees if you want.” He shifted from one foot to the other.
“You think that’s what I want?” Her voice shook. “What I want is to go back in time and fix...this.” Before the ball and throwing up and seeing her mother’s ring in his hand and the expectant smile on her father’s face. The images collided, stoking her temper. “I want you to leave. That’s what I want.”
His entire body stiffened, an odd choking cough escaping him before he growled, “I’m not leaving you out here.”
“I can’t go home right now. I need...space. From everyone.” She hugged herself. “From my dad. The town. You.”
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll change the tire. But you have to sit in my truck until then, please.” He was changing her tire so she could leave. Which was what she wanted. “Come on, Renata. This temperature can’t be good for the babies,” he pleaded.