Page 18 of Steal My Heart (Prosperity Ranch 2)

“You sound so convinced.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe you can show me some of the stuff you’re working on, so I can get a fuller picture.”

She quirked a brow. “Maybe.”

The next few miles passed in more silence, then he had to ask, “Okay, so tell me why you’re so anti-small town living, and what else did you say? You’re opposed to Sunday dinners and raising babies?”

She arched a brow. “You have a good memory, Mr. Hunt.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Prosper.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of Prosper yourself,” she said. “My parents love it. My brother Holt is there for good, too.”

“Fair enough.”

She closed the laptop and slipped it into her backpack.

“Finished already?”

Evie shrugged. “I need to save something to do at home.”

“Is it really that bad in Prosper?” he asked in a low tone.

She sighed. “It’s not that bad; it’s just not what I want.”

He nodded. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Is that the TA coming out in you? One of the professors rubbed off?”

“Maybe . . .” He glanced at her.

“I don’t know where I’ll be in five years.” She leaned forward and fiddled with the radio. Yeah, there wasn’t a CD player or Bluetooth in his truck. Just a radio. “How old is your truck?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that,” he said. “It was my grandad’s, and he gifted it to me when I got recruited for football.” His gaze slid over to her again. She’d crossed those long legs of hers and was currently picking at some threads on one of the ragged holes.

“That was nice of him,” she said. “You two must be close?”

“Yeah. He raised me and my brother, Rhett.” Before he could say any more, or decide how much he wanted to say in the first place, a car fishtailed in front of them. Carson slammed on the brakes and was able to stop before they became the third car in the chain reaction.

The music was still playing in the cab of the truck, but Carson’s thundering heartbeat drowned it out.

“You okay?” he asked, looking over at Evie.

She nodded, but her face was pale. “Yeah. You?” Her hand went to his arm, her fingers cool on his skin.

“I’m fine.” He unclipped his seatbelt. “I’ll see if anyone needs help. You might need to call 911.”

“Okay,” Evie said in a barely-there voice.

Carson slid out of the truck and checked on the car that he’d nearly hit. An older couple was inside, and they both looked shaken up. Carson opened the driver’s door. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

The woman with thin gray hair rubbed at her neck. “I’m all right.”

The older man in the passenger seat had eyes as wide as the moon. “We damn near hit that motorcycle. It just spun out of control in front of us.”

Carson’s heart sank. He hadn’t seen the motorcycle, but motorcycle crashes rarely had a good outcome. He hurried around the spun-out car and jogged to where he could see a human form on the side of the road. His stomach clenched. The person didn’t seem to be moving, but at least he was wearing a helmet.

Images flashed through Carson’s mind. Images of another motorcycle wreck, one he’d never witnessed but had imagined many times. The guy lying on the side of the road right now could have been Rhett. It had been Rhett, and he hadn’t survived.

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