Page 3 of Chasing the Wild
DECLINED.
“You got another way to pay?” His tone is accusatory, and as he exhales sharply the guy slaps the counter.
What a grade-A asshole.
“Um. Just give me a second.”
A tightness forms in my throat as I grab my purse and start making a show of rummaging through it for the alternative payment method that I know fully well doesn’t exist. I’m so certain there was enough money in my account, having checked only this morning to make sure before I drove out here. But now I’m panicking and doubting myself all because this asshole is being such an over-the-top wanker about it.
As I’m searching, I hear him make a dismissive noise. “You people are all the same. Turn up here from out of town and think you can rip off businesses like mine. If you can’t pay, lady, you’re going to have to siphon that fuel out of your tank.”
I’m stammering in the face of his brash rudeness and feeling clammy from head to toe. If I can’t fuel up today, and get to my placement in time to start work tomorrow I’ll undoubtedly risk losing this job. My next three months of bills and expenses and Evaline’s payments start going up in smoke in my mind’s eye.
“Please… if you can just give me a moment.”
Over my shoulder, I hear the door bang open and the screech of the chime. Oh, god, now there’s a queue forming behind me to enjoy my humiliation first-hand.
“Just… could I try the card one more time, please?” I try forming a smile while a sting pricks behind my eyes. “I know there’s enough money there to cover the gas.”
Although, now I’m actually sweating. Doubt has crept in. Maybe there was an unexpected bill I forgot to take into account?
But the man is shaking his head and growling something at me about siphoning and the nerve of fucking him around and my cheeks are flaming hot.
“Silly air-headed girls like you have no idea how to be responsible. Always coming in here running up bills you can’t pay for. That’s you parked at pump three? The Honda?” He sneers at me and looks me up and down, before jabbing a finger in my direction. “Stand right there and don’t fucking move. I’ll deal with you in a second.”
I’m stunned. My hands are shaking. This prick has no idea about me, or my life, and thinks he can talk to me like a chauvinistic, condescending asshole. I feel like he’s slapped me, the tirade is so unexpected.
My step falters backward as I step aside, making way for the next person in line. What the fuck am I going to do?
As I’m spiraling in the middle of this shitty gas station in the middle of nowhere, a low, smooth voice cuts in.
“Christ, Kurt. Take your heart pills already. I’ll cover it.”
Chapter 2
I’m rendered speechless.
The man beside me reaches across and taps his card on the screen. Green lights all perk up, indicating a successful payment, and the asshole behind the counter mutters something resembling athank you.
But that’s not exactly the reason I’m left without the ability to form words.
A stranger just paid for my fuel, and he is absolutely someone who I had no idea could exist in real life.
He’s a wall of rugged man, and I have to tilt my head a little in order to take all of him in. With a faded black t-shirt revealing a tanned neck, scruffy dark curls, and a short beard with a bit of salt and pepper gray in it.
When he turns around to face me, I’m immediately caught in the snare of his bright hazel eyes. There’s something wild about him, and I am nothing but a fawn stunned in high-beam headlights.
“After you, ma’am.” His voice washes over me like rain after a long, hot day as he gestures politely toward the door with something in his hand. When my eyes drop down, they catch on the jet-black cowboy hat in his big paw.
Oh, god… and then his tightly fitted wranglers.
This is the real danger out here in small towns like this. Cowboys with impeccable manners who look like they can sweep you off your feet one minute and rail you until you forget your own name in the back seat of their truck the next.
I stammer something incoherent and move toward the door. I’m still not sure what just happened back there, but am more than relieved to escape the silent glare of the prick who will never get my business again in this lifetime.
Ever the country gentleman, this cowboy holds the door open for me. Behavior that is entirely foreign—especially coming from a stranger. In my world, I’m used to fending off men with wandering hands trying to cop a feel at two a.m.
Once back on the forecourt, it’s like the world rushes in again. Birds chirp, the drone of a truck rattles past, and the sweet fragrance of jasmine climbing a trellis drifts from the cafe next door.
