Untamed: Heath & Violet (Beg For It 3)

“Sure, I know where he’s at.”

“You do?” She looked at me like I’d performed a miracle.

“It’s a town of 1,700 people.”

“Right.” She nodded.

“And your plan is to drive there in that toy car of yours?”

“It’s not a toy car.”

“It’s as good as a toy car in a storm like this.” I liked watching her huff and puff. She looked like a baby chick, fluffing itself out to look big. Just made you want to touch it more.

“I can drive slow.”

“Into a tree.”

“Heath.” She rolled her eyes. I liked hearing her say my name. Those lips made a man think about all sorts of nasty things. I’d like to make her say my name again, soon, calling it out nice and loud.

But that wasn’t a good idea. Best to get her off and on her way. Not get her off, not like that. Down, boy.

I shifted. Better to get this over with, quick as I could. “He lives about ten minutes away. I’ll take you there.”

I stood up and went to grab my jacket from my barstool. Dave raised his brow and caught my eye. I shrugged. I didn’t know how to explain myself. I could try to pass it off as courtesy, plain and simple. She was a damsel in distress and I was helping her out.

I told myself it wasn’t because I wanted to get her alone and find out just how sweet she tasted. I didn’t do that type of thing. Most of the women around these parts didn’t even try with me any more. When I’d first moved into town, they’d wanted to climb all up on me like I was a freaking jungle gym. But enough nos cooled off even the most determined of pursuits. They’d learned I kept to myself. I didn’t want the hassle. I was an island.

Violet slid down off her stool. Her jeans left nothing to the imagination. I wouldn’t have wanted them any other way. Long and slim, curves right where you needed them, I thought my tongue might be lolling out of my mouth like a cartoon character.

So much for the island.

Then she shrugged her way back into that oversized monstrosity she called a coat. She zipped it all the way to the top, pulled up the hood and stood there like she’d been swallowed whole by an aggressive parka.

I almost cracked a smile. But I wasn’t trying to make friends with this woman. I was providing safe passage from point A to point B. Ten minutes and she’d be Gary’s problem. Then I could go to bed knowing she hadn’t died in an icy car crash. Of course, before I slept I’d probably need some quality time with my hand. She had me hard as a fucking rock.

But that wasn’t a problem for me. Abstinence, solitude, these were my middle names, and that was the way I liked it. Someone just needed to send the memo down below my belt.

Outside, she still made her way over to her car. She’d only been in the bar for twenty minutes and it already had a half-inch of snow on it.

“You’re not driving that car,” I repeated, making my way over to my truck. I was parked in an actual parking space, over to the side of the building. Not perched up on the sidewalk like a damn bicycle. Then again, her car was about the size of a bicycle.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

Leaning against the back of my pickup, I crossed my arms against my chest and watched her. Waiting. She’d come around. No sense exerting the energy fighting with her when I knew I’d win.

She pressed the button on her remote car opener, but then struggled with the door.

“How’s it going?” I called over to her, watching her try to get a better stance in her heels. She kept slipping and sliding in the ice and snow. “You got an ice scraper? You’re not going to be able to see out of that windshield.”

“Why is everything so cold here!” she yelled in frustration.

“It’s Vermont.”

“I know that.” She sounded so snippy. Then she crossed her hands over her chest. Only she couldn’t really, not in that giant parka. Her arms kind of slipped over one and other and then fell down to her side again. Squinting at me, she asked, “How do I know you’re not going to kidnap me?”

I shrugged. “You don’t.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring.”

“Ask a dumb question—”

“I get it.” She stomped her foot, then seemed to think better of it as she slipped and had to steady herself on her car.

“How much longer is it going to take for you to let me give you a ride? Because if it’s going to be much longer, I’m going to go wait in the cab of my truck.”

Even in the dark with the snow coming down, I could see her roll her eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with this car?” she asked. “Just leave it here overnight? Won’t I get a ticket?”

Now I did smile, picturing the type of expensive, highly restricted parking she was used to in L.A. Here in Vermont, the staties couldn’t be bothered with things like parking violations. Our town constable Elmer would probably notice the red car up on the sidewalk tomorrow. He’d scratch his head and tuck into the bar for a beer with Dave to figure out what’s what. Then he wouldn’t come out for several more hours, and once he had he’d have forgotten what he went in for.

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her.

“I have luggage. Things I’ll need tonight.”

I had no one but myself to blame as I made my way over to her damn car to haul out her suitcase for her like a damn hotel porter. Make that two suitcases. I stood looking into what passed for a trunk in her MINI.

“I have another one up front and one more in the back.” She gingerly made her way over to the passenger door.

High maintenance, just like I’d thought. I picked up two. Not a problem for me, but they were heavy as fuck. “What do you have in these? Rocks?” I recognized the crisscross pattern with the Gs. She had Gucci luggage. Figured.

Heading back for the remaining bags, we passed each other right as she started to slip and fall on her ass. Covered by her down comforter of a parka, but still. I caught her, pretty much carried her over to my truck and plunked her down on the seat. She’d best not plan on staying long in Vermont. I didn’t see her lasting more than 24 hours without ending up in the ER.

Luggage in back, windshield scraped, doors slammed shut, I turned the key and cranked up the heat. With any luck, this would be over in no time.

“Wait.” She brought her hand to my arm, and even through my jacket I felt her touch with a jolt. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”

I looked over at her. She needed more convincing? She should be careful what she wished for.

CHAPTER 3

Violet

The cab of his truck was small. Or maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was just that he was so big. He seemed to fill it up, his big shoulders and forearms. This close I could get a good look at his strong profile, his determined, set jaw. He had enough of a beard it would feel rough against my skin, in exactly the right way.

My hand on his arm, I looked up at him. I knew I’d already signed my own death warrant. If he were a serial killer, he wouldn’t tell me that he was. He wouldn’t let me out of the truck, either.

Even though it was pointless, I couldn’t help expressing my reservations. Everyone knew it was a ridiculously bad idea to hop into the truck of a strange man in a strange town where you knew no one. Add to that my cell phone that barely functioned and I was basically writing the plot to a new bestselling murder mystery. Only it probably wouldn’t sell because readers would say it was too unrealistic. What woman would just hop into a truck like that? No one would be that stupid!