Page 1 of Beat around the Bush
1
Oakley
The sound of metal crunching filled the car as my body was thrust forward against the seat belt. I cursed, slamming my foot on the brake despite my car already being stopped due to the truck now attached to my front bumper.
Shifting to park, I took a minute to catch my breath. I’d been so lost in thought about my parents that I hadn’t seen the taillights until I was right on top of them. The rain pelting down didn’t help, making visibility damn near nonexistent.
I knew it hadn’t been a good idea to get groceries in this storm, but as most rentals come, the fridge was empty and I needed food. I couldn’t keep eating fast food as that was all I’d done throughout the entire drive to this town in the middle of nowhere. I hadn’t had time to do a full grocery trip because I’d been searching for a job since I arrived.
When I left Denver, I had no destination in mind, but halfway through my drive, I’d tried to find the nearest Taco Bell on my maps app, and oddly, Bell Buckle had popped up in the list. While there was clearly no Taco Bell in this town, the name was… somewhat close? Regardless, the name sounded cute, so I clicked it, and well, the rest was history.
Knuckles rapped on the window and I jumped, my hand shooting to my chest. Unbuckling my seat belt, I opened the door and stepped out.
“Are you alright?” the man asked, stepping back to give me space. It was dark despite the light from our headlights and the rain was coming down, making my ability to see his features almost nonexistent.
“I’m so sorry about your truck. I couldn’t see very well with the storm and it’s dark and I’ve never been very good at driving at night and-” He held a hand up to stop me.
He bent down slightly so we were eye level, his hood pulling back a little with the movement. Even with the little bit of light, I could see the hazel of his eyes shining, the color reminding me of the forest floor. “Are you okay?”
I managed a nod. “I’m okay, but your truck-”
“I don’t care about the truck. You hit me pretty hard. Did you hit your head or anything? Are you feeling alright?”
Was he serious? I just slammed into his bumper and he didn’t care? The man clearly wasn’t from the city. Any other person would be filled with rage at the damage done.
Speaking of damage, I glanced over to where my front end was connected to his vehicle. My hood had slid right under his bumper, seemingly causing no damage to his truck. My car, on the other hand, had a dented hood.
Bringing my gaze back to him, I nodded again. “I feel fine. Do you want my insurance?” Before he could reply, I turned back to my car to reach in for my wallet, but a rough hand grabbed my elbow. Despite the cold, his skin was warm against mine. I’d forgotten my jacket at the rental when I rushed out the door to try and beat the worst of the storm.
I looked back at him, doing my best to ignore our point of contact. “No.” He dropped my arm. “Don’t need to involve insurance, unless you want to. My truck’s fine. I can pay for the damages on your-”
“That’s not necessary,” I interrupted. Now I knew he couldn’t be serious. I hit him, and he was offering to pay for the damages on my car?
My car was an old piece of junk anyway. If it was that bad, I’d just sell it for parts and use whatever money I had to buy a different vehicle.
My hair was dripping from the rain, droplets falling down my face as I tried to think of a way to get out of here. Hooking my hair behind my ears, I took a step back, gesturing to my car. “I should get home, I have groceries-”
“Yeah,” he replied before I could finish my sentence. “Let me just take a look under your hood, make sure everything’s fine.” He was offering it, phrasing it more like a question.
This entire situation was so beyond awkward, I just wanted to leave. I already felt like an idiot rear-ending him. He probably thought I was just another tourist who didn’t know how to drive unless the sun was out.
To give him a sense of peace before we parted ways, I agreed. “Sure. That’d be nice, just in case.”
He eyed me before giving a slow nod. He didn’t move, so I finally spoke up. “Aren’t you going to check?”
“Need you to reverse it a few feet.”
Embarrassment flooded my cheeks as I remembered my hood was currently pinned under his truck.
“Right,” I muttered before getting in my car, shifting into reverse, and backing up a few feet. The front of my car lifted a few inches as I slipped out from under his bumper. I looked over my steering wheel to assess my hood. With how bad it sounded, there was surprisingly little to no damage, aside from the dent.
I could live with a dent. I just needed my car.
After shifting back into park, I got out, closing the door behind me as he lifted the hood, his fingers finding the clasp under the metal like he did this often. He was wearing a black Carhartt, but even under the jacket, I could tell he was built.
I should not be checking out the guy I just fucking slammed my car into.
Averting my gaze, I wiped the water from my cheeks. The rain was deafening, drowning out the sounds of our engines idling. He closed the hood, turning to me. “Looks fine from what I can see right now. I’d take it to a shop, though. There’s one intown, if you’re staying around here. They open at eight a.m. tomorrow. North State Auto,” he said, having to raise his voice over the downpour.
