Page 7 of Mechanic's Charming Bride

I’m tucked into his passenger seat with the skirts of my dress all bunched up around my waist. The seatbelt is barely able to fit over me but somehow, I managed to shove it into the socket. Go, me.

Finally, I snap out of it when he lifts a brow at me. “Yeah, all good.”

He nods once before firing up his truck and slowly pulling back onto the highway.

By the time he’d gotten my car hooked up and loaded onto the flatbed, it had thankfully stopped smoking. That has to be a good sign, right? There’s no way there’s that much wrong with it when I’d just been driving it fine for the past hour. Plus, if it’s only the coolant, I can be back on the road by tomorrow morning and keep heading to…

Well, wherever it is I’m going. Where the wind takes me, I guess?

“So,” my hot mechanic says. “What brings you out this way?”

Funny he should ask that.

I guess it isn’t every day you roll up on a woman in a wedding dress who isn’t trying to frantically get to the ceremony. But this poor guy is only trying to help me out, so unloading onto him all of my crap wouldn’t exactly be very ‘good customer’-ly of me.

Besides, I doubt he even cares. Not to say anything bad about his character—he seems like a genuine guy. But who the hell wants to listen to someone bitch about their trifling fiancé the entire way back into town?

My leg begins to vibrate, causing me to slap my hand down onto it. Belatedly, I realize that I’d shoved my phone into my dress pocket, and that’s probably what’s giving my leg pins and needles at the moment.

Shit, it’s probably Frank again.

Pulling it out of my dress, I turn it over and look at the screen, my heart sinking instantly.

Dad.

Would it be awful of me to ignore his call? This is the fourth time he’s tried to call me since I left. While I don’t really want to explain myself in front of a stranger, it’s also pretty shitty of me not to let the man who raised me know that I haven’t been abducted.

“Hey, dad.” I say when I finally answer the call.

My palms immediately start to sweat.

“Sammy!” He sounds frantic. “Where are you? The ceremony is starting and no one can find you!”

I wince.

Mom’s probably knee-deep in a freak out and my bridesmaids are most likely combing the parking lot looking for my car, which is long gone by now.

I can’t even imagine what my in-laws are doing. Probably something shady like trying to talk the catering services into comping our wedding for a ‘runaway bride’ discount.

To think I ever fell for their bullshit is going to haunt me for the rest of my days.

“Yeah, uh… sorry. I kind of left.” I’m trying to talk quietly but this truck cab isn’t exactly huge.

Even if he’s not looking at me, I can tell my hot mechanic is listening intently to my conversation. Can I blame him, though? If I were in his position, I’d want to know what the hell is going on with a bride refusing to go back to her wedding.

“What happened?” He’s not even mad, which is the worst part. He simply sounds concerned.

My dad’s always been there for me, through thick and thin. No matter what happens, he’s always got my back.

When I first brought Frank over to meet the family, he and my dad clicked instantly. At the time, I thought it was a sign from the universe that I’d finally found the one, while apparently, in reality, it was just a testament to how good Frank was at sweet talking people.

I, along with my family, had fallen hook, line and sinker for it. By the time my instincts began to warn me about all of this, it had already gotten past the point of no return.

How could I break my dad’s heart by telling him that the ‘son he never had’ was a giant asshole?

“Sammy?” My dad says.

“Sorry, uh… it’s a long story. I just need some time to think about things.”

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