normal routine of working hard followed by playing hard just wasn’t doing it for him tonight.
He gently pushed Tiffany away from him. “Not tonight, Tiff. I’d be falling in my plate if I had a plate.”
His rebuff earned him a pout from Tiffany, and for a moment he reconsidered passing on the pleasure she was offering. But he had the oddest feeling that his being tired wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t dragging Tiffany and her tasty curves to the nearest bed. Hell, the nearest horizontal surface. But damned if he knew why she didn’t look quite as appealing as she once had.
Owen slipped off the bar stool where he was sitting and tossed a couple of bills on the bar.
“Calling it a night so soon?” asked James Turner, who was tending bar tonight.
“Yeah, just hit the wall.”
James shot him a crooked grin. “I think hell just froze over.”
“Be careful or I’ll take my tip back.”
James just laughed and moved to fill another drink order.
Owen stepped out of Tiffany’s reach before she could attach herself to him again and made for the door. He stifled a yawn as he headed out the door and across the parking lot to his truck. A stiff breeze sent a paper cup tumbling across the parking lot, and thunder rumbled in the distance, promising some good sleeping weather.
As he drove toward home, a few sprinkles of rain began to fall. Just as he passed Crider Road, he noticed emergency flashers blinking on a car up ahead. As he got closer, he spotted a small silver car pulled halfway off the road. A woman wearing a skirt and high heels stood beside the car and then proceeded to kick the flat rear tire. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the image she made even though she was obviously upset.
He pulled in behind her and parked, leaving his headlights on to illuminate her and the car as he slipped out of the truck.
“I don’t think that’s going to help,” he said as he approached her.
When she looked toward him, he hesitated for a moment as recognition hit. “Linnea? What are you doing out here?”
She took a step back as she shaded her eyes against the bright light. He realized she must have figured out she wasn’t in the safest position, broken down alone on the side of a rural road at night.
“It’s Owen Brody. Are you headed to the ranch?”
She seemed to deflate more than relax. “That was the plan, but my tire had a different idea.” She sounded even more drained than he felt.
He walked the rest of the distance to the rear of her car. “Don’t worry. I’ll get this changed for you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice sounded so small that he met her eyes and saw a sadness there that he’d never seen before in his sister’s best friend.
“You okay?”
“Been a rough day.”
He wasn’t a “share your feelings” sort of guy, but for some reason he wanted to ask her what was wrong. Instead, he asked her to pop the car’s trunk so he could get the spare before the approaching storm reached them.
She moved to comply and had to catch herself against the side of the car when she twisted her ankle off the edge of the pavement. The curse that came from her shocked Owen, it being so at odds with the classy lady he’d always known her to be.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine.”
She sounded anything but fine, but he wasn’t going to push. He knew better than to wave the proverbial red flag in front of a woman already in a foul mood.
When the trunk latch disengaged, he opened the lid and found the spare tire, one of those little donut deals. “Hate to tell you this, but your spare is as flat as a pancake, too.”
“Of course it is.” Linnea bit her lip and lifted her gaze to the darkened sky just as the raindrops picked up their pace.
He closed the trunk. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride to Chloe’s. We’ll get your tires fixed in the morning.”
“I...I was actually going to your house.”
He looked at her, growing more confused by the moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she shook her head. “I should have called her back. She offered me the extra room for a few days, but I see she didn’t tell you all about it. If you could give me a ride into town, I’ll get a room at the inn.”
When had his house become his sister’s bed-and-breakfast? Although he had to admit Linnea was a lot nicer to look at than the last guest they’d had. Not that Wyatt wasn’t a decent-enough-looking guy, but he was a guy. They already had enough testosterone and stinky socks around without adding more.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come on before you get soaked.”
Linnea hesitated before opening the back door and grabbing a couple of bags and her purse. As she started toward him, he saw her wince when she put weight on her twisted ankle. He’d never liked seeing a woman in pain, so he stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight.
She stiffened for a moment before allowing her muscles to relax a little. “Thanks.”
“No thanks necessary. Rescuing damsels in distress, it’s what I do.”
He expected a laugh, a smile, something. But when she offered none of those, he realized this was not the same Linnea who’d been texting Chloe pictures of wedding stuff for months. Someone who was as happy as Linnea supposedly was about her upcoming marriage didn’t look as if someone had run over her dog and then laughed about it. But it wasn’t his business. Female drama was Chloe’s department.
As the rain picked up its pace, he ushered her toward the driver’s-side door of his truck. “It’ll be easier for you to get in over here. Can’t have you toppling into the ditch.”
She made an attempt to smile at him this time, but damned if it didn’t look shaky and as if she might dissolve into tears at any moment. Oh, hell. He so didn’t do tears. He had to get to the ranch and hand her off to his sister. As she slid across the truck to the passenger side, he sent a quick text to Chloe to get her butt over to his house because he’d just picked up her best friend on the side of the road.
By the time they reached the house, the rain was coming down in slanting sheets. He parked but didn’t get out of the truck. Part of him wanted to curse that he hadn’t taken Tiffany up on her offer. A woman who had a night of naughtiness on her mind—that he could deal with. Sitting in a truck with a woman who looked on the verge of tears as the heavens unloaded on them? Not so much.
His phone buzzed with a text from his sister. “Chloe says she’ll be here as soon as the rain lets up.”
“She doesn’t have to get out in this.” Linnea shook her head. “I should have just stayed at home.”
Yeah, something was definitely wrong in happily-ever-after
