Steal Me, Cowboy Read Online Free Page B

the number. “Dillon’s,” the guy on the other end barked.
    “Hey, this is Rainey Brown, Beck Hartnett gave me your name. My car broke down about an hour east from you on Highway 290. I need it towed and repaired, please.”
    “Yes ma’am. Year, make and model?”
    “It’s a blue 1998 Civic. It has South Carolina plates, you can’t miss it.”
    “I’m pretty backed up right now and won’t be able to get out that way to tow it until after five. Won’t be able to look at it until tomorrow until around lunchtime. Are you staying in town?”
    “Well, I guess I am now.”
    I gave him my number and ended the call. Maybe I should call Adam. I hadn’t talked to him in a couple of days, which made me anxious. Normally, we talked every day, several times. Sometimes it was just couples stuff— I love you, I miss you. Most nights I’d put the phone up to Buster’s ear and Adam would talk to him too. Then I’d give Buster one of those giant rawhide bones to keep him occupied while mommy and daddy had hot phone sex.
    The call went straight through to voicemail again. “Hey, babe. It’s me again. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Kind of weird, but I know you must be busy. Love you. Miss you. Hope to see you soon.” It’s baseball season, I reminded myself, and Adam had just started his new job.
    I walked back into the kitchen and helped clear the table. Beck’s smile was thin… he was quiet. “Thank you for everything, for stopping and helping me. For not being a serial killer.” He didn’t laugh. Something had changed. He didn’t seem as warm and certainly not as flirty. “I really am grateful to you for giving me a lift, for hooking me up with a good mechanic. And lunch was great.”
    “You’re welcome.” He wiped down the granite counter tops and then tossed the rag in the sink. I didn’t know him well enough to know if he was pissed off or hurt, but it seemed like he was both.
    “Dillon said he’d pick up the car and would look at it tomorrow. If I could just trouble you for a ride into town, I’ll find a hotel and then I’ll be out of your hair.” That long gorgeous, dark, glossy brown hair.
    “I have plenty of room, you could stay here.” If flirty, fun Beck had asked me a half hour ago, I might have said yes or at least seriously considered staying in his guest bedroom.
    “Thanks, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
    “All right then, let’s go” God this man had some giant mood swings. He left without the hat, most likely so he could torture me with the full effect of his hair one last time. “What’s your budget? For the hotel.”
    “Cheap would be nice.” Really cheap.
    “Everything in town is within walking distance. There are a lot of bed and breakfast places, but the ones I know of aren’t cheap. Dillon might know of some that are.”
    “Thanks. I’ll ask him.” The truck pulled into the parking lot. Beck jumped out like he was in a hurry, took my bags out along with the box and put them in the waiting area.
    A friendly-looking thirtyish guy in a jumpsuit came out of the garage. He shook hands with Beck and then smiled at me.
    “You two met on the phone, so there’s no need for introductions. She’s all yours now, Dillon.”
    His words hit both of us funny, I blushed, embarrassed he was so hell bent and glad to get rid of me. And Dillon looked like a cross between shy and Christmas morning happy.
    “Thanks, Beck I’ll be sure and get her settled in. Don’t you worry.”
    Beck started up the truck without looking back. His big hand kneading the steering wheel hard as he backed out of the space.
    Now, I’ll be honest, single, engaged, married, it doesn’t matter, southern women like me are accustomed to making a memorable entrance. And, between rattlesnakes and grilled cheese sandwiches, I had made one in a big way with Beck Hartnett. We are also conscious of leaving a good impression, of making a memorable exit, and Beck was stealing mine.