The Slot (Rochester Riot #1)(55)
“There is,” he smiled back and found he appreciated the easy banter. “But wouldn’t it be much more fun to pull up in front of Nan’s in the old John Deere as opposed to my ’62 Corvette convertible?”
“I’d like it.”
“Just the kind of stunt I might have pulled back in high school,” he said. “With your brother.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Blake’s got that same sense of humor. My dad says most of his grey hairs are courtesy of Blake. Brock, he was the milder and more mature older brother.”
They went back and forth with escalating stories of Blake’s antics as he directed her to the local salvage yard where the tow had taken his totaled out Dodge. The drive only took about five minutes and he almost wished the salvage yard had been farther away. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a conversation with a woman. Sharing laughs and a comfortable camaraderie.
The small SUV bounced over the potholes on the gravel road leading to the chain link fence and Adam appreciated the view as her body jiggled in all the right places. He shook his head. Jesus.
I’m being a complete reprobate. Twenty-four hours ago, I was engaged.
Julia pulled up to the office and switched the engine off as he got out. She waited patiently, deciding to stay put, and said she needed to answer some client e-mails. She was really excited about a farmhouse renovation she was starting next week. The old home needed some serious love and she was just the woman for that arduous task. It seemed that the more ramshackle the project, the more she loved the transformation. Adam found he could listen to her all day when she talked about her work. Her life.
He walked with the owner of the yard to his crunched up truck and sighed. He’d really loved it and now he’d have to replace it and deal with the annoying insurance companies as well as some bogus lawsuit. He could handle the hit to his wallet but maybe not the one to his ego. As he ran a hand through his thick hair and sighed, he grabbed his Caribou duffle bag out of the extended cab and slammed the door. It immediately fell off the hinges and straight onto the dirt below.
“You’re lucky to be alive, dude,” the older man commented as he watched the fallout. “If you hadn’t been in a newer vehicle with all the safety features, this would have been much worse.”
“No doubt.” He didn’t need to have people keep telling him what a dipshit he was. Shit. He’d never driven drunk, even in high school and college. Damn Heather. And Mark.
He glanced up and found Julia bent over her iPhone, her cloud of silky, auburn hair floating around her torso. She looked like an angel. His angel.
She jumped when the car door opened and slipped her phone into the center console. “Okay, I’ll need help navigating to your house,” she said as he slipped beside her and closed the door. “I have a general idea, but I’ve never been to your place.”
“It’s super easy,” he replied as she turned the ignition.
Julia pulled back onto the highway and toward a rural area as Adam directed her. She slowed when they passed the scene of the accident. The roadway littered with glass and metal. The jackknifed semi had been removed, but a large tree, minus its branches, lay in the ditch.
Adam gave out a low whistle. “I guess I am lucky to still be here. That doesn’t look good. Thank God no one was hurt.”
“Yeah, you’re really lucky,” Julia commented as she started up the long, gravel driveway. Then she turned her face toward him and he took that opportunity to get lost in the depths of her eyes.
“So, how did you manage to get my personal cell number?”
“I have my ways,” he admitted with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Sometimes, it’s good to be a local hero. Everyone steps forward to help you.”
“That’s not fair,” she admonished. “You’re supposed to use your celebrity for good and not evil.”
“I did use it for good,” he said softly. “Julia, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you agreed to pick me up from the hospital. For some strange reason, I feel safe when I’m with you. Like you’re not going to sell me out. Or hate me. I haven’t put my best foot forward lately.”
She blushed that delicious shade of pink again. The same one that looked like she’d been f*cked senseless and had just come all over him, screaming his name.
Stop it, Spencer.
“I was happy to help out an old … friend.”
“I hope your boyfriend didn’t mind,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
“I don’t have one right now,” she announced without pausing. Then quickly recovered. “I work really long days. It wouldn’t be fair to pull another person into that.”
Was that her way of issuing a subtle warning to back off?
“I’m glad someone isn’t going to show up here with a baseball bat or a twelve gauge,” he joked. “Besides, I figured you’d be the best choice since you’ve already seen me in my stylish hospital wear.”
“Excuse me,” she snorted. “You’re the one who stopped me from leaving. And I think you looked kind of cute in that ensemble. In fact, I think we should check with SueAnn and see if she could carry something similar in the boutique. It would literally fly off the racks.”
He loved how they’d already settled into the comfortable back and forth teasing pattern. And playfulness. Nothing serious.