Page 21 of Wild Hearts

I toss my phone on the couch, disappointment and frustration forming knots in my belly.

Of course, Grace would go for a man like that.

Gentle. Kind.

Fuck, even intelligent.

No one has ever used those words to describe a Gallagher, let alone me.

I’m a brute. Trailer trash. A dumb motherfucker who lazes around Dusty’s.

I bet there’s not a single character in Jane Austen’s books that resembles me. I don’t even warrant a mention on the page because I’m not a woman’s dream hero.

Normally, that wouldn’t concern me.

But I’m afraid Grace may be my dream girl, and we’re as mismatched as they come.

CHAPTER NINE

GRACE

Elsie, Shadow, and I spend Sunday exploring the trails around the Suitor’s Crossing bridge. We keep the walk slow and easy, the fresh mountain air much needed—along with our conversation about Wes.

One unexpected kiss plus an almost kiss.

What did they tally up to?

That’s what we were still trying to figure out as I drove back to the apartment, theorizing aloud when the car engine stuttered to a stop in the middle of the street.

"Seriously? Not again…" I groan in disbelief. The vehicle is twelve years old and rough around the edges, but it’s like all my years of good fortune have finally run out because two car problems in quick succession? Bad fucking luck.

The guy behind us blares his car horn.

“You guide the steering wheel while I push from the back. Hopefully, we can roll out of the street and to the gas station before that dude blows a gasket,” Elsie says, unbuckling her seatbelt.

I nod in agreement and pop the driver’s door open, keeping one hand on the wheel while pushing against the door. With both of us working together, Elsie and I manage to get my car to the oil-stained parking lot, collapsing in our seats once we’re done.

Shadow braces his paws on the console and licks my cheek before I shove him back. “Not now, kid. Let me think.”

There’s an obvious solution to my problem, though I hesitate to bring it up.

What choice do you have?

"Should I call Wes? He might be able to help."

Elsie's eyes light up with glee. "Yes, do it! Oh my god, this is perfect!"

I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm while dialing his number, nerves pitching a tent in my belly as I wait to see if he picks up.

"Hey..." His wary tone has me rethinking the call. It’s obvious my abrupt escape yesterday put him on guard.

"Hey, Wes. This is Grace." Obviously. My palm slaps my forehead. "Elsie and I were out, and my car just kinda died. Is there someone who can come take a look or tow it to your garage?"

Wes’s tone perks up immediately, and he lets me know that he'll be twenty minutes after I give him our location. True to his word, a tow truck turns into the lot right on the dot.

"Let’s see what we’ve got." Wes pops the hood. Worn jeans and a light blue shirt are his uniform today, both stained with oil.

It looks like he came straight from working underneath another car, and I feel bad for interrupting him when he already juggles a packed schedule.

---