Game of Hearts Read Online Free

as I drove away. Jory was right. Things had been so much simpler back then.
    ****
    "No, no, don't do this," I pleaded as the car stalled at the light. The digital clock clicked over to three o'clock. I turned the key with no luck. "Great."
    Vehicles honked as they flew by. I tried starting it again and prayed a miracle would happen. Still nothing. A black truck sped past, music blasting out the open windows. The driver honked and waved his middle finger at me.
    "Yeah, I got stuck here on purpose to tick you off," I blurted. Bass drums still pounded in my ears. "I have absolutely nothing better to do with my time but find ways to make your life miserable."
    The truck drove out of sight. I called my auto club, and then climbed from the car. I lifted the hood of the 1993 Honda and stood staring. My knowledge of cars was limited—you put the key in, you fill it with gas, and it goes. I had no idea what I was looking at. Frustrated, I walked around and kicked the front driver's side tire.
    "If that works, let me know," a voice said from behind. A tall, muscular man in jeans and a black tee shirt approached.
    My heart stopped. Brandon. Those deep brown eyes were unmistakable. I prayed he didn't recognize me. I had my hair pulled back in a braid, and my floral skirt and red blouse looked much better than the sweatpants and windbreaker he'd met me in. Also today the sun shone, and I had no cake on top of my head.
    "What's the trouble?"
    "I don't…" I choked on fumes as a delivery van passed. "I don't know. It just stopped."
    It had been two weeks since we'd met, and he was just as handsome as I remembered. The tee shirt stretched across his back as he leaned over my car. My heart beat faster. He sure knew how to wear a pair of jeans. I brushed sweat from above my upper lip.
    Stop it! the angel over my left shoulder whispered. Remember, you're a Christian woman.
    Yeah, but she ain't dead. The devil on my right shoulder always got me into trouble. I wished she'd leave me alone.
    I jumped when Brandon spoke. "Crank the engine," his deep voice ordered as he leaned farther under the hood.
    I crawled into the car and tried the key. The vehicle choked and sputtered, but would go no further. I watched Brandon through the slit beneath the hood as he twisted and turned things in the engine. He hollered for me to try again. Still nothing.
    Brandon walked up to the car door. "I think you might need a new fuel pump. It'll run you a couple hundred."
    "That's all I need," I muttered under my breath.
    "I might be able to do the repairs," he offered. "I've got some experience working on cars."
    "How much would you charge?"
    "You pay for the parts, and let me take you to dinner." He cocked his head to one side.
    Â  Inwardly I preened at the invitation, until reason took hold. He might be handing me a line. I didn't have much experience with men, since I hadn't gone on many dates in college and had married Michael shortly after. If Brandon behaved anything like my ex-husband—a conceited, lazy womanizer—I couldn't care less about the request, no matter what type of food might be involved.
    "I'm new to town." Brandon rocked back on his heels. "I don't know a lot of people here. Besides, you're one pretty lady."
    My insides trembled as I envisioned being alone with this man. What would we talk about? I'd make a fool of myself. "I've already called the auto club, and I have my own mechanic, but thanks anyway. Besides, I don't make a habit of going out with men I don't know."
    "Very well." He glanced around. "We need to move your car out of the middle of the road before you get hit and end up with more problems than a fuel pump. Put it in neutral and turn the steering wheel sharp to the right. We'll take the car into the parking lot across the way. I'll push."
    I put the car in gear while he got behind and pushed with his hands on the trunk. A blue Buick stopped, and the passenger got out to help. Within a minute or two my car sat parked