the big rig idling, the trucker threw open his door and thundered toward the woman. He was a large man, in both stature and girth, dressed in a flannel shirt with jeans that belted below his protruding belly. He seethed with aggression.
Hastily, Bruce laid enough change on the table to cover his coffee and slid from his seat. His gaze never wavered from the unfolding scene.
As the trucker drew near, the woman didn’t back up. No, she grabbed a suitcase and shoved it behind her, then, strangely enough, she took a stance. The disparity in their size was ludicrous, and yet she squared off with the big bruiser as if she intended to duke it out with him.
Bruce couldn’t hear the argument, but he could tell by their postures that emotions were high and driven by anger. The young lady practically bounced on her toes in provocation, amusing Bruce even as he feared for her safety.
From one second to the next, things escalated from a verbal confrontation to physical combat. The trucker grabbed her by the arms, jerking her forward and into his chest. The woman’s mouth opened on a silent cry.
And Bruce bolted for the door.
He’d seen plenty of violence against women, but it hadn’t made him immune. Just the opposite—more than ever, it infuriated him.
With all the recent changes in his vocation, protecting women was no longer his job. Yet, the instinct remained as strong as ever.
Ignoring the other customers who watched him curiously, Bruce shoved the glass door open and was halfway across the lot before his mind registered the scene before him.
The trucker had dropped to his knees with his hands cupped around his testicles, his face a twisted mask of excruciating pain. Surprise didn’t slow Bruce’s stride, and he reached the woman just as she drew back her foot to kick the trucker in the chin.
Catching her from behind, Bruce swung her up and away from the other man, then set her back down out of striking range.
The second her feet touched the ground, she rounded on him, drew back a bent arm to plant her elbow in his face—and paused with a look of mute surprise. Their gazes clashed and locked for long seconds that to Bruce, felt like an eternity.
He was captivated.
She appeared more than a little wary.
Blinking away his astonishment, Bruce came to his senses first. He felt like a fool, and no wonder since he was acting like one. “Are you all right?”
Breathing hard, she shook back her long black hair and demanded, “Who are you?”
Many of the bulbs in the diner’s outdoor lighting had burned out, but they still provided enough illumination for Bruce to fall headlong into her exotic features. Pale, icy blue eyes were tilted on the outside corners, heavily lashed and direct. Never in his life had he seen eyes like that.
Her petite body had generous curves enhanced by snug jeans and a soft cotton top. Long limbed, delicate but lush, she was a male fantasy come to life. Because the night air was cool, her nipples had stiffened. Bruce felt his stomach muscles clench as he watched her chest, now rising and falling in agitation—and suddenly her elbow connected.
Not on his nose, thank God, but against his solar plexus, stealing his wind and making him gasp while staggering back a step. “That hurt.”
She tossed her hair again. “The first ten seconds of ogling were free. But you went way past that.”
Pressing a fist to the ache she’d caused, Bruce swallowed, cautiously drew two more painful breaths, then rasped, “My sincerest apologies.”
Her incredible eyes narrowed. “Are you for real?”
He almost smiled at the irony of the situation. “I saw your predicament from the diner and had some vague notion that you might need assistance.”
“Yeah?” She glanced behind her at the trucker, who was making noises of renewed life. “I still might.”
The trucker staggered to his feet with a lot of grunting and grimacing. With his right hand, he pointed a short, meaty finger at her. “Fucking whore,” he spat. His left hand continued massaging his crotch.
Offended, Bruce said, “That language is unnecessary.”
The trucker snarled. “She promised to—”
“I didn’t make any promises.” The young lady didn’t raise her chin, but instead tucked it in and looked down her narrow nose at the trucker with icy disdain. “I was nice, and you made assumptions.”
“I gave you a ride and even bought you lunch!”
Her rosy lips curled in a taunting way. “And you thought a hamburger and fries got you special favors? Get real.”
“They sure as hell weren’t free.”
“Perv.”
Fuming, the trucker reached for her again; she physically prepared herself, and Bruce, feeling like the biggest idiot alive, got between them.
Quickly, before the trucker tried to take him apart, Bruce asked, “How much does she owe you?” Then he held up a hand. “And don’t mention sex, because that’s obviously out of the question. And besides, prostitution is illegal here and there’s a cop sitting right inside the diner.”
The trucker, with one worried glance at the restaurant, subsided. He pushed his ball cap back on his head and scratched at his ear. He seemed undecided, but finally said, “Forty bucks oughta cover it.”
Bristling indignation brought the woman to her toes. “Forty bucks! Are you out of your friggin’—”
“Fine.” Bruce located two twenties. “Here. Now go. We’re drawing a lot of attention.”
Hearing that, the woman looked over her shoulder, and grinned. The front window of the diner had at least ten noses pressed to it. “So we are. Probably the most excitement any of them have had in a decade. Oh and look. There is a cop.” She waggled her fingers at the mostly disinterested officer before turning back to the trucker. “Get lost, Tarzan.”
The trucker folded the bills Bruce had given him into his wallet, then tucked it into his back pocket. “Cock tease,” he muttered with pure venom and headed for his idling semi.
In saccharine-sweet tones, she shot back, “Buffoon.” But the trucker wasted no more time in throwing the big rig into gear and grinding his way out of the lot.
Bruce exhaled his relief, gave himself a few seconds to prepare for her impact, then returned his attention to the young lady. Her features were as devastating now as they had been moments before, but at least this time he wasn’t taken unawares. “You’re okay?”
“Fine and dandy.” One arched brow lifted.
“You?”
“I’ll live.” But his chest still hurt from the blow she’d delivered. She might be small, but she wasn’t helpless.
She looked around her with interest. “I don’t suppose you’d want to buy me something
