Her Unexpected Detour Read Online Free Page A

threatening tone. What harm could a woman who looked to be a hundred pounds soaking wet possibly do to him?
    She still had yet to climb in, so he raised both hands in the air as a sign of defeat. Legs hesitated a second more, then crawled up into the truck and pulled the door shut behind her. Brent watched as water rained down from her drenched body onto his passenger seat, and thanked the good Lord for the umpteenth time he’d gone with leather upholstery.
    “Phone,” she demanded and held out a hand.
    Nope, still didn’t trust him. Ironic, as he was probably the most harmless knight in shining armor around. He handed over the phone, then opened his hand and left it extended toward her. “Brent Masterson, local contractor. Nice to meet you. Again.”
    Her lashes fluttered. “Oh, uh, Kayla Daniels. Rude stranded traveler. Nice to meet you, too. Again.”
    As her soft hand pressed into his, the world around them faded away. The rain, the ice, the worries—everything left his mind but the woman who now sat across from him. She was funny, independent, and, soaking wet or not, hot as hell.
    Which made her all the more dangerous.
    The instant her hand retracted, the spell was broken. So while she focused on dialing, Brent looked away. It was too easy to stare, to imagine what those curves might look like without the layers of wet clothes plastered to them. What they might feel like.
    But he didn’t look anymore, didn’t feel. Kayla shifted from him as she waited for whoever was on the other end to pick up, and Brent was glad for the additional space between them. Because the further he stayed from her, from anyone, the safer his heart would be.

    K ayla dialed Tommy’s number and tried to discreetly lean as far away from Brent as possible. Between the soothing, dark interior of his truck and that clean yet spicy aftershave of his, it was a struggle to stay focused. Especially after watching his hips rise off the seat so he could slide a hand into his front right pocket for the phone. That combination had sent her imagination down an entirely different path, one that had nothing to do with cell phones or little brother mechanics.
    Get it together , she ordered herself as another ring went by with no answer.
    “This is Tommy.”
    Kayla breathed a sigh of relief and pushed Brent and his hip strength from her mind. “Tommy, it’s me. I—”
    “Kay? I thought you were on your way home. And what’s with the crazy number?”
    She snuck a quick glance at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scowly, whose gaze was trained on the windshield. “Yeah, well, my cell isn’t picking up a signal out here, so I had to borrow someone else’s. And I was on my way home, but that stupid detour got me all turned around. Then I hit a slick spot and zoop! My car slid right off the road.”
    “And into a fence post I just replaced,” grumbled Brent.
    “Oh my God,” Tommy cried. “Are you all right? Is the Impala okay?”
    “Yes, I’m fine. The Imp, though, well, she’s not budging.”
    Tommy cursed under his breath. “All right, let me call you a tow. My friend Jimmy owes me a favor, anyway. Just tell me where you are and I’ll send him over.”
    “Where I am?”
    Kayla looked out at the bleak, frozen landscape and frowned. She didn’t have a clue as to where she was. A quick scan of the countryside for something to use as a point of reference—a billboard, a house, anything—proved worthless. All she could see were freshly tilled fields speckled with clusters of pine trees.
    Brent reached over without warning and swiped the phone from her hand. “Tommy? This is Brent Masterson. Yeah, I picked up”—he grimaced—“I mean, found your sister wandering down South Whiteville.”
    He was distracted by the conversation now, allowing Kayla a few seconds to openly gawk at her rescuer’s handsome features. His skin was kissed with an early spring tan, or maybe still held color from the countless hours he likely spent outside the year before.