Page 2 of Relief Pitcher

The ceaseless pounding of rain on my roof served as the soundtrack to my blood pressure reaching emergency levels. I squeezed my eyes closed and blew out a breath.

WWDD? As I channeled my inner confident asshole to speculate what Dom would do, I surveyed what was available in my car. My survival supplies consisted of a granola bar, my cheese factory treats, and a Hydro Flask half-full of water that could double as a urinal if things got dire. I wasn’t about to get drenched in a torrential downpour to take a leak outside since my rain jacket was more fashion than function. It wasprobablywater-resistant, depending on how loose the definition of “resistant” went. There might be an umbrella in my trunk. Schrödinger’s umbrella.

I’d never been a Boy Scout. That was more my brother Seth’s thing, but I knew hypothermia was bad news. Was it cold enough for hypothermia? How fast did that set in? If only I could Google the answers. I could hustle to the trunk, check for an umbrella, then pop the hood. I might figure out whatever was wrong. It could be something as simple as plugging a thing back into another thing.

I could send a pigeon with a note to AAA to come rescue my ass so I could make it to my hookup with the sexy otter in McMinnville for a bachelor party weekend. The perfect opportunity to fuck and never talk again. Exactly how I liked it when it came to matters of my dick.

I’d been so busy the last few weeks that it would be my first hookup all month. I shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold creeping into my car, only the blueness of my balls. Between Caleb’s restaurant opening, Ethan and Parker getting their heads out of their asses and finally defining their relationship, and the brewery busier than ever, it had become increasingly difficult to get out of Dahlia Springs for sex. Despite what the movies of my teenage years claimed, sitting on my right hand until it went numb didn’tactuallyfeel like someone else was touching me. Go figure.

I slapped my hand against the steering wheel to release tension and accidentally hit the horn. I pounded my fist against it several more times because it felt good. Apologies to the woodland creatures.

As I thought through my options, I idly munched my granola bar and chugged the rest of the water. I never claimed to be good in a crisis. Maybe the carbs would help me develop a foolproof plan to get me from my dead car to my warm bed. Or someone else’s warm bed.Hell, I’d take a dry floor at this point.

Something flashed between the trees ahead that caught my attention, and I heard the rumble of an engine growing closer. It didn’t sound like a car though. Moments later, an ATV came around the bend. I supposed I could’ve gotten out of my car and walked until I reached a house, but I wasn’t equipped for wet hiking. It was part of my DNA as a Western Oregonian to persevere in damp conditions like a fern, but I didn’t want to.

A broad figure wrapped in rubber—not in the sexy way—stopped the ATV in front of my car and turned off its headlights. Rain clobbered my windshield, preventing me from getting a clear view, but the person appeared tall and big.

Who knew that your car needed the engine for the windshield wipers to work? Probably most people. Even if my knight in shining rubber was there to save me, I wasn’t stoked to open the door and let in the sideways rain to speak with them.

The hulking figure strode toward me in a dark-green sensible jacket and rain pants. They belonged on the cover ofBass Fishing Unlimited.

When the person tapped their knuckles on the driver’s window, I braced myself for the rain. I opened the door, not expecting to find vibrant green eyes staring back at me. Dark stubble covered a broad sharp jaw and full kissable lips were pursed.

I’ve never had sex on an ATV before, but I’ll try anything once.

CHAPTER2

COOPER

I scratched out the tenth sketch I’d started in my notebook. That stellar piece of oak I’d snagged on a job last month was rotting away in my studio because I couldn’t decide what to do with it. Not that anyone would ever see the finished product or know it was mine if they did. I was only a couple of years away from turning forty, and if I hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to share my art, I wasn’t sure I ever would.

I glanced at the time on my phone. If I’d accepted my coworker’s invitation to go to his wife’s birthday party, I would’ve had to start getting ready. However, that required actually being social and not continuing to hide away. After three years of declining invites, it felt more habit than necessity. Next time, I should say yes.

I closed my notebook and turned my attention to the true-crime documentary on my TV. Over the soundtrack of someone telling a beautiful story about their sister and the unforgiving rain pelting the roof, I could’ve sworn I heard a car horn. I wasn’t close enough to the highway to notice most traffic noise over the sound of the rain and the closest neighbor to me, a half mile down the road, was still in Phoenix for the winter.

Shit.That meant one thing. A visitor headed my way. Wasn’t a benefit of living in the middle of nowhere not having visitors pop in? It was probably Danita. As my best friend and—former?—sister-in-law, she was the only person who visited me anymore, but she never honked to mark her arrival. Danita preferred the element of surprise.

I tried to ignore the sound, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if someone was in trouble. With a labored sigh, I stood from my well-worn recliner and pulled on my rain gear.

I hopped on my ATV to quickly cover more ground and drove toward the highway. About halfway between my house and Highway 26, I encountered a gray sedan with wisps of smoke crawling out of the hood.Bingo.

After parking the ATV and climbing off, I squared my shoulders and approached the car. I was a big guy, and it couldn’t hurt to use my size to intimidate as a defense mechanism if needed. Unfortunately, the rain made it impossible to make out the person in the car. I doubted it was anyone planning to try something funny, but I’d watched enough true crime to be skeptical.

When the person in the driver’s seat made no move to open the door, I tapped on the window. Maybe they were hurt or ill? I’d taken CPR years ago but didn’t remember it well enough to use it in a life-or-death situation. With their car blocking my driveway, I couldn’t even use my truck to get them help.

When the door cracked open, I stepped back.

“Jesus Christ, it’s pissing down. Never thought I’d say this, but I miss hand-crank windows. It’s so fucking wet.”

I got a good look at the guy in the driver’s seat. He was attractive—that was impossible to deny. Objectively so, and not only because I was basically a born-again virgin. He had dark hair, bright eyes, the right amount of beard to feel good, and a gorgeous smile with a playful tilt.

His smirk deepened as he caught me checking him out.

I cleared my throat. “Are you okay?”

His smile turned sheepish as he scooted as far from the door as possible. I half expected him to climb over the console into the passenger seat to distance himself from the sideways rain. I moved to block him from the worst of it.

His face lit up as I did it, which made my stomach do an annoying flip. “My car broke down. I was trying to find a place to pull over when things got dire. The driveway was the first thing I saw, and then my car just stopped. I don’t have any service to call AAA.”

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