Page 12 of When the Storm Breaks
I looked over his shoulder at a faded blue Chevy. It looked like the one Maw Maw used to drive. The thought of her and that old truck put a big smile on my face.
“There it is,” he said softly.
My gaze swung back to his face. “There what is?”
“Your smile. You should do it more often.”
“Give me a reason and I just might.”
“I thought me standing in your doorway would be enough reason.”
I laughed at his response, but my laughter faded under the intensity of his gaze. I wanted to know what his story was. From the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I knew he had one and that parts of it were tragic. It was just a feeling I got. Maybe that was why I’d been drawn to him in the first place. But he looked as if he’d ridden out the storm and had come out on the other side of it. Or maybe he was really good at pretending.
Maw Maw always told me I’d inherited her psychic powers. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, I was never quite sure. Either way, I’d never really believed I had her gift.
Right now, though, something was taking hold of me. A strong vibration that told me something big was headed our way. I didn’t know if the outcome would be good or bad, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty. Neither of us would come out of it unscathed. All the more reason to keep my distance.
I dragged my gaze away from his to the pickup truck parked right in front. “How much do you want for it?”
“I don’t want your money. Just use it while you’re here and leave it with a full tank when you’re done.”
“I need to pay you for it. I can’t just take your truck.”
“It’s not mine. Friend owed me a favor. It’s a crap truck but it should get you around just fine. So take the damn truck.” He ran his hand through his longish dirty blond hair, his voice gruff. “I can’t be playing chauffeur every time you need to go somewhere.”
With that, Brody handed me the keys and strode away.
“I never asked you to play chauffeur,” I called after him. “I never asked you for anything.”
“Well, that just ain’t true now, is it? You asked me to find you a ride and I did.” He patted the hood of the pickup and turned around to face me as I moved to the edge of the porch. “And if you need me to keep your secret and protect you from assholes, I’ll do that too, Shi-loh,” he said, dragging out the syllables of my real name in his smooth Texas drawl. “All you gotta do is ask nicely.”
I didn’t bother telling him I’d never asked for his protection last night. I was too fixated on the fact that he knew my name. “Dammit. How long did it take you to figure out who I am?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve. Never claimed to be all that bright. But I’ve got plenty of other attributes to make up for it.”
As if to prove his point, he gave me a slow, lazy grin that was completely disarming. That smile of his got to me every time. But the last thing I needed was more trouble in my life.
Damn you, Brody McCallister. Falling for you is not part of my plan.
I needed to get close to him without getting fucked five ways from Sunday. Been there. Done that. Still had the battle wounds to show for it.
“Do you think ...” I didn’t want anyone to recognize me. The last thing I needed was to have the media hounding me. That would ruin everything. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”
“I don’t think everyone in town will know who you are. Now, if you were Carrie Underwood you might have a problem.”
“And why’s that?” I was no Carrie Underwood. Nobody would ever call me America’s sweetheart. But I bristled at his words all the same. Which was stupid. Hadn’t I just said I wanted to go unnoticed?
“This is Texas Hill Country. Lot of folks around here listen to country music.”
“How about you? Do you listen to a lot of country music?”
“Nah. Not my thing.”
“What kind of cowboy are you?” I scoffed.
“Never claimed to be a cowboy. You said it, not me.”
“And now you’re going to deny it?”
