Page 2 of Wild Mountain Ma n

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Never mind. I’ll take care of it. Just pop the trunk once you’re buckled in.”

He could lift the trunk without me doing anything, but I didn’t argue. I started toward my driver’s seat, looking both ways as I went around the front of my vehicle.

I did feel a little safer once I was inside and buckled in. And that was when I researched the word spare, along with the word car, and realized he was talking about a spare tire. A lot of cars had the spare in the trunk.

“Oh, shit,” I said, looking in my rearview mirror.

The trunk was open. He’d obviously figured it out on his own without me doing anything, and from the sound of things, he was rummaging around in there.

That was where I’d put the boxes of truffles I’d spent hours making before leaving my tiny apartment in Charleston. It was part of the competition. We had to bring samples of our baking. If he destroyed those, I wouldn’t just be late for the cocktail reception, which was starting in less than half an hour, but I’d also be missing the one requirement to enter. I might even be kicked out.

I looked to make sure no vehicles were coming and unfastened my seatbelt, preparing to get out. But the trunk slammed shut at the same time my fingers landed on the door handle.

He was already changing the tire, but he’d no doubt put the damaged one back after he was finished—at least that’s what the website I visited said to do. So I took a deep breath and got out, heading to the back of my car and looking inside the trunk.

“What are you doing?” His head popped up all of a sudden, his eyes narrowed at me. “I told you it wasn’t safe.”

“I have something back here that’s even more important than my life.”

“Doubtful.”

Was that a compliment? No, he’d probably say that to anyone. A human life was always more important than truffles,at least in most people’s eyes. My future was riding on this baking competition, though, so I wasn’t really on board with that.

“This is precious cargo,” I said. And then my gaze lowered to the trunk. “Oh no.”

That seemed to be enough to get his attention. He set down whatever he was holding and came around to the back, joining me as I frantically opened box tops.

“I have to save these,” I said as a swishy sound alerted me that a vehicle was about to crest the hill up ahead. “I’ll bring this around to the passenger side. Can you open the back door?”

The panic in my voice must have been noticeable because this burly guy did exactly as I asked, stopping to prop up the spare tire against my car so I could easily get around it. Then he opened the back door for me and watched as I set the boxes on the back seat, arranging them so they wouldn’t slide around.

Not that it mattered at this point. I doubted there would be enough uncrushed truffles to distribute among the judges. I’d made exactly enough for the eight of them.

“Did I do that?” the guy asked. “I had no idea. I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention to what was back there.”

I’d set the candy boxes to one side, with my luggage taking up the rest of the trunk. My suitcase now sat on the ground next to the trunk. I assumed he’d done his best to get the tire out without having to remove everything from the trunk.

I shook my head, backing up and looking at him. “You couldn’t have known. You’re saving my bacon here. If I don’t make it to the reception in time…well, I don’t know what will happen. They said it was mandatory.”

A gigantic truck whizzed past us, and I saw the guy tense. He wanted me in the car.

“I’ll grab the rest of the boxes and put them back here,” he said. “Just belt yourself in again. Please?”

He added that last part at the last minute, probably sensing I wasn’t too fond of being bossed around. I knew his bossiness was for a good reason, though. He was trying to keep me safe. He didn’t want my candy being the only thing that was crushed out here today.

That was a morbid thought. I shook my head at myself as I walked around to the driver’s side and, as I’d done before, stopped to look both ways. I noticed a couple of vehicles behind his and figured I’d better get in the driver’s seat before they decided to rush around us.

“What am I going to do?” I asked myself as the guy walked around and settled the boxes in the back seat. He ran out of room on the floorboard, so he settled them on the seat.

Oddly, as stressed as I was right now, that one move comforted me. The guy was changing my flat tire, for God’s sake. But him taking care of my chocolates touched me in a way I hadn’t expected.

Suddenly, all I could think about were the people who said they fell in love with their husbands when they saw them as fathers. Right now, my chocolates were my babies. Opening a candy shop was all I’d ever wanted to do. And this man—thishero—was helping me. He was doing everything he could to save them.

Too bad I was only going to be here for a few days, because for the first time in my life, I could see myself falling in love with this hot mountain man in a bomber jacket who knew how to change a spare tire. They didn’t come any better than him.

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