Jeremiah (Stud Ranch 5)

I made another exasperated noise. “We can’t just stay here! We don’t have any food or water.”

Jeremiah just reached across my lap to the dash. I withdrew in distaste from his close proximity as he rustled around and pulled out two half-crushed granola bars. He tossed one in my lap. Then he reached behind his seat and pulled out two empty water bottles. I jumped as he shoved his door open, the driving rain assaulting my ears after the relative quiet inside the cab.

I watched through the back window as he set the two bottles in the back of the truck bed, wide-lipped tops off. He propped the bottles upright between some tools he pulled out of his truck box. I could see rainwater splashing inside the clear plastic bottles, filling a fourth of an inch at the bottom of them already.

God, he was annoying when he went all MacGyver like that. I ripped the bar on my lap open and shoved a huge bite in my mouth.

It was a little stale but still, food was food, and I really hadn’t eaten anything beside the fries Jeremiah had spared me during lunch. Was I wishing I’d taken the time to order a fat, juicy burger like he had? Yes, yes, I was.

I was also wishing I hadn’t gotten out back at Raul’s because now I was stuck in these wet clothes for God knew how long. I shifted and my butt squelched on the truck seat. I grimaced. Dear God, was I really stuck here? Cold, wet, hungry, and with—?

“There,” Jeremiah announced, freshly doused with rainwater as he got back up into the cab, all but shaking his hair like a dog does when it’s wet.

I held up a hand. “God, please. Some of us are trying to get dry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Was me trying to get you some water to drink so you don’t get dehydrated making you uncomfortable? I guess her majesty will have to get out and get her own water from now on.”

“Don’t be a jackass. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?”

I rolled my eyes. He was determined to be impossible. I shoved another bite of the granola bar into my mouth, not taking the bait.

But the silence in the cab with only the rain continuing to pelt the front windshield quickly grew unnerving.

“So what now?” I asked as soon as I’d swallowed.

“Now we wait.” He turned off the truck and stretched his legs out—well, as much as he could considering he couldn’t exactly lean his seat back very far before bumping into the back of the truck. And his legs were too dang long to stretch out straight. He grabbed his cowboy hat off the seat between us and settled it low over his head so it covered his eyes.

“You’re going to take a nap? Seriously?”

“Don’t see what else there is to do. Seems like a fine idea to me.”

I made an exasperated noise. “We’re both wet to the bone and stuck in the middle of nowhere and taking a nap is your answer?”

He gave a long-suffering sigh and tipped his hat back so he could look at me. “And what exactly do you think we should do.”

I lifted my cell phone. “Uh, how about we call for help?”

Jeremiah just nodded toward the low-water crossing. “And who exactly do you think is gonna be able to cross that and rescue us?”

“I don’t know. A firetruck?”

He scoffed. “We aren’t in danger and it’s hardly an emergency. You wanna waste taxpayers’ hard-earned money just cause you don’t want to spend an uncomfortable night in a truck?”

Spend the night? He thought we’d be here all night? But looking at the water that seemed several inches higher already rushing over the road… dammit, he was right.

“Plus, they might just tell us to stay put anyway—I’m not sure a rig could make it across that any better than we could.”

“And if it keeps rising? What if we do get in real danger and we could’ve been saved if we’d only called earlier?” I shook my head at him and started dialing for help… except I had no bars. A frequent problem out here in the nooks and crannies of the hill country. “Dammit! Give me your phone.”

He reached in the pocket of his jeans, which were cemented to his lean legs by the rain and pulled out his phone. But his was the same. No service. “Ugh,” I said in frustration, handing it back to him.

“Like I said,” he settled his hat back over his eyes. “We wait.”

How was he so damn calm about all this? I wasn’t good with sitting still. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin being stuck in the small space. It wasn’t that I was claustrophobic exactly… I just preferred open space where I could move and see the big wide-open sky overhead—and not have a big male body beside me breathing so loud and suffocating all the available air.