Page 4 of Driven Wild By The Grizzly

“Damn.” Ethan jumps out of his seat and swings open the little door to his driving cabin.

Holy crap.Standing, he’s even bigger than I realized. He’s like a man mountain. A mountain of ripped, tattooed muscle.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The engine just quit.” He jabs a button, the bus door opens with a hiss, and he jumps down the steps.

For no good reason, I follow him. A weird feeling is running all through my body, kind of antsy, excitable, and I get the feeling that the only thing that will fix it is being close to him.

He yanks on the hood and it opens with a loud, rusty-sounding creak. Clouds of steam are pouring out of engine, and there’s an awful hissing sound.

“Uh-oh. It’s not gonna blow, is it?”

Ethan looks at me like I’m the funniest thing ever. “Nope.” His thick black eyebrows tug together as he peers at the engine.

Something is written across the front of it in another language. “Is that Russian?”

“Think so. This thing has to be at least fifty years old. It was probably brought over from the Soviet empire or some shit.” He groans, sounding real pissed off. Then he sighs out something like sounds a lot like “Grandad.”

“Huh?”

“This is my grandad’s bus,” he says. “I’m covering for him while he’s out, having a hip operation.”

“You’re not a regular bus driver?”

“Hell, no.” He shakes his head in distaste. “This piece of junk is ready for the wrecker’s yard, and it usually runs three-quarters empty, but my grandad loves his job. If I didn’t take over his shifts, the county would probably cancel the route and he’d be heartbroken.”

Warmth floods my chest. He’s not only incredibly hot and uncannily perceptive, but he’s got a kind heart as well. He’s the dream man I never thought existed in real life.

“That’s real nice of you,” I say.

Those arresting eyes are fixed on me again. “Best decision I ever made.”

My breath catches.

Is he talking about me?

That’s a crazy thought. Where did it even come from?

And he’s no longer looking pissed off. Instead, he looks kind of… hungry? His pupils are dilated, turning his eyes dark.

Dark and stormy, and fixated on me.

Shivers blast through me again, turning my nipples into aching peaks.

Ethan turns his attention back to the engine. “This is not something I’m gonna be able to fix on the fly. Who knows if the spare parts even exist anymore—”

Roooooarrr!The grunt of a big engine cuts through the quiet. Motorcycles. Purely on instinct, my gut tightens.

I watch as they roar past, looking anxiously for my ex-boyfriend’s club colors. There are at least ten of them. Maybe there’s some motorcycle convention in town. But I’ve got a bad feeling, worse than my day-to-day paranoia. Some spidey sense that my ex is close.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks.

“Nothing.” I’m already embarrassed that I burdened him with my apprenticeship calamity. I’m not about to tell him that this is the second time I’ve had issues with sleazy guys. “Anything I can do to help?” I say instead.

He crooks an eyebrow. “You happen to have a spare bus radiator, circa 1985, in your backpack?”

I giggle. “Darn. Knew I forgot something this morning.”

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