Page 28 of Wolfish Heart
I remember something that I can't help but blurt out. "Yesterday at the diner, someone said something about the tow truck service being run by dirty boys."
He's already pulling out his wallet to show me his driver's license. My throat makes an involuntary snort-laugh as I read his name.Griffin Dirty.
"Yup." His dark chuckle dances straight up my spine. "Our last name mostly died out across much of the country in the early nineteen hundreds, for obvious reasons. But here on the mountain, the Dirty family has kept the name alive."
"I didn't mean–"
"It's okay to laugh." His eyes twinkle as he leans in to whisper, "It's weird. I know."
His strong, rough hand takes mine to help me up into the truck and for half a second we're face to face, barely two inches apart, so close that I'm sure he can hear my heart hammering in my chest.
I've never felt this way around any man before. Lust, intrigue, and some sort of connection that feels like it was always there. Yet I haven't known him for even five minutes.
Is it possible that I'm falling for a Dirty boy?
