“Are you okay?”
He smiled at me, looking very happy to see me. Absurdly happy for someone who’d just had a run-in with my fender. He had a bruise developing over one eye and a split lip. It didn’t do anything to detract from his good looks. If anything, it made him look even more dangerously attractive.
He looked like trouble.
“Hello, Angel.”
“My name’s Charise.”
“No, it’s not.”
I stared at him. How did he know that? Most guys were more than happy to fall for the whole act. They didn’t want a real girl. They wanted a pretty package. A fantasy. One that looked available, even if it wasn’t.
In my case, I extra wasn’t.
“Your name”—he paused to lift a half empty bottle of top shelf vodka—“is Angel.”
I bit back a laugh. A coyote howled, not too far off. I looked at him again.
“You shouldn’t be out here. Coyotes.”
“I can handle coyotes.”
I sighed as he flexed for me, still on the ground. He was ridiculous. But somehow, I wasn’t scared of him. At the moment, I was more afraid for him. I’d seen his military tats and ring. He was a hero. I couldn’t leave him out here.
Don’t do it, Kirsten. Do not do it.
I did it.
“Where are you heading?”
“Heaven. Hell. Can’t be too sure.”
“Okay.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Get in.”
He lit up, grinning at me stupidly.
“But! Do not lay a hand on me,” I warned him.
He nodded and held up his hands, trying to look innocent. It only made him look more like a wolf. I got in and opened the door across from me. I watched him warily as he climbed in. His jeans hugged his thick thighs and his leather jacket looked like it had been molded to his body.
It had been a long time since I noticed a man. The timing was terrible. Plus, he was drunk and a gambler and God knew what else.
“Seatbelt.”
He put it on and grinned at me stupidly. I pointed at the bottle he held.
“Lose it.”
He chucked it out the window without taking his eyes off me. I flinched from the sound of the bottle smashing, but he didn’t even react; he was too focused on my face. He was really intense. I wondered if I had made a stupid mistake in picking him up, even if I had run him over. It just seemed a wrong to leave him out here. Even if he was a big, strong looking guy.
You really are an idiot, Kirsten.
“Hey, I wanted to give you this.”
I snapped to attention as he shoved a wad of cash in my purse. I looked at the money and back at him. A terrible feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m not for sale.”
“Lucky,” he offered nonsensically.
“What?”
“‘I’m not for sale, Lucky.’ That’s my name.”
“I’m not…” I couldn’t even say it. He just smiled.
“I know you’re not, Angel. I always tip my dealer.”
“This well?”
“Well, maybe not.” He smiled at me dreamily. “But you’re so pretty.”
I rolled my eyes and started the car. He was too drunk to make a pass at me. He was more like a large, sexy, puppy. I pushed on the gas and started driving again. Carefully, though I doubted there were any more lost hunks wandering the road.
“Take the money back.”
“No.”
“Look, it’s nice of you and all but I really shouldn’t take it.”
“You should.” He stretched out in the seat beside me. He filled up the whole car. The man really had an extraordinarily good physique. “You should also go out with me tonight.”
“Out?”
“To dinner. Drinks. Movie. Whatever you want.”
“I can’t,” my answer was quick but not without a tinge of regret. When was the last time someone had actually asked me out? Usually all I got were indecent proposals. It was… nice, for lack of a better word.
“Why not?”
“I have to work.”
“The night after.”
I shook my head.
“Working. I barely know you anyway.”
“That’s what people go on dates for, I think.”
“You’ve never been on a date?”
He smiled at me goofily.
“No. Never met an angel before. You ever get a night off?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I need the money.”
“You must be tired.”
I made a sound of pure exasperation. Half sigh and half laugh. The man was talking in circles.
“Okay, so no nights. I’ll take you out to breakfast.”
“Can’t. Sorry.”
I really couldn’t. My kid owned my morning and the time after school before bed. Then there were little things like cleaning and cooking and sleep. Not to mention I’d been eyeing some online classes. If I could get financial aid…
“So I’ll come back and sit at your table. I’ll get to know you then.”
I looked at him again.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Sal doesn’t like people talking to me.”
“You with him or something?” He sounded like he didn’t believe that, which earned him some points.
“God, no.”
“Ah, but he wants you to be.”
“Something like that,” I admitted. Lucky might be drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. I didn’t want to say any more.