Page 7 of Found By You

Three.

Duke

I study her—this Maci Baker. If there ever was a name to fit this woman more perfectly, it’d be that.

Stunning emerald eyes paired with long, deep red hair cascading in subtle waves out of the dark grey beanie she has on and down well past her chest. Freckles bridge over her nose from cheek to cheek above full, plump lips with a delicate jawline that has me fighting to keep my hands to myself.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as pretty as she is.

The flimsy black coat she has on can’t be doing shit for her on this winter night being below freezing—without factoring in the windchill. She’s got on black yoga pants and grey winter boots with faux fur around the top. And from what I could see when she got in the truck, she’s got a body to match those lips and tight ass.

“All right, well…” What else can I offer her to be more helpful than I already am? “Did you want to call your husband before we head back into the dead zone? I’m sure he’d want to know you’re okay.”

I sure as shit would if my woman was this gorgeous, I think to myself, then hate myself for the thought even crossing my mind. You don’t have a woman, moron. You’re alone, remember?

How could I forget?

“I…don’t have a husband,” she tells me.

I raise a brow. “Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

She shakes her head, and it’s unclear if the blasting heat is getting to me or if I like that bit of information more than I should.

“Where you heading, Maci?” I try to contain the thump in my chest from saying her name aloud and how good it sounds when I do.

Who the hell is this chick?

“Currently…” she trails off with a vague gesture around the truck. “Wherever you’re willing to take me.”

“I’ll take you wherever you want,” I say, and it’s the truth. “Where were you goin’ before?”

“Anchorage.”

My eyes widen. “Alaska?”

She pains a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t expect you to take me that far, but a cheap motel would work for now.”

“That I can do,” I say, and she nods.

We fall into a sort of amicable silence that should be awkward as hell—but it’s not.

When I catch her covering her mouth to yawn, I ask, “You sure you’d rather wait here? I can tell ya Joey’s trustworthy, and I’ll have him back your car into the shop where it’ll be safe.” Thankfully one of the three bays I cleared out earlier is still open—which is a rarity these days.

Maci chews her lip. “You, um, said there was a storm coming in. Do you know when?”

“Soon,” I admit, not wanting to scare her, but also not wanting to be out here if we don’t need to be. “Supposed to last through the night.” She shifts uncomfortably, and I tap my thumb on the steering wheel. “I doubt anyone is going to be out driving around knowing it’s hitting tonight. We can turn back and get whatever you need from your car before I take you to the local motel.”

She looks around for the tenth fuckin’ time. Am I that intimidating? I mean, sure, she’s in a vulnerable position at the moment, but I hope I don’t look like someone who’d hurt her.

“Okay,” she says quietly, nerves evident in her soft tone. “I already have what I need, so, um, can you take me to the motel?”

I shift the truck out of park. “You got it.”

We head off toward town. The ride is silent again as Maci gazes out the window, likely gathering just how far out she was from town or even the nearest house.

“Thank you for stopping,” she finally says, breaking the dreaded silence I’ve grown accustomed to—not by choice.

“Don’t mention it,” I say, clearing my throat. “So, what’s in Alaska?”

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