Chapter Seven
Tiffany’s belly bottomed out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, now, let me think. I know—it looks like I’m rescuing you,” said the second to last man on earth Tiffany wanted to see again.
“I told her not to drive that stupid thing.” Dakota deigned to lower the Beats.
Thomas slammed the door of the truck. “I thought you were going to call me.”
“I never said I would call.” Her lame comeback deserved the glare of scorn he tossed her way. His broad shoulders casting her in shadow, he strode toward her, a mountain of angry man.
“I told her it was a stupid idea.” Dakota jammed his hands in his pockets.
She glared at Dakota.
Thomas’s sunglasses concealed his eyes, but the set of his mouth was grim enough to tell he wasn’t pleased. “I’ve been following you for days.” His head jerked in the direction of the Miura. “I never thought anyone would be dumb enough to drive a vintage sports car all the way from Chicago.”
Dumb. The word clattered through her brain. Her vision went hazy, her breath sawed through her lungs. People gave her that what a pretty moron face all the time, but he’d come right out and said it. To her face. “I’m. Not. Stupid.”
Both males turned to stare at her.
“No, just marooned in the desert.” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.
True enough.
He stepped toward the car and reached for the hood.
“Don’t.” It would be an awful waste of all that lovely flesh. Not that she gave a shit about him. She was more concerned she might get hit by flying mechanical bits. “What are you doing?”
His shades blocked the look he threw her as he touched the hood. “Testing how hot it is.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
He snorted. “Why would I believe anything you said?”
He arrived, out of the blue, asking questions about Luke and then called her a liar. And wait a damned minute here. “You followed me?”
“Yup.” He straightened from the hood and made his way around to the passenger side of the Miura. Thomas bent a long way down to peer in at the dash.
Dakota growled and gave her a sort of you’re too stupid to live look.
“He followed me.” Tiffany tried to get her head around that. “All the way from Chicago. Who does that?”
“Who cares?” Dakota stuck his chin out. “Did you happen to notice we’re stuck in the desert?”
Thomas popped his head up. “Actually, I followed Dakota.”
“You know each other?” She was forced to ask Dakota as Thomas disappeared into the car again.
“Duh.” He rolled his eyes.
Dakota had no appreciation for their dilemma. They were stuck in some—whatever its name was—desert with a very angry stalker. She bet Dakota didn’t know which desert either. You actually had to spend time in school to learn anything. Something neither she nor Dakota had managed to do. Poor kid. Of course, it was hard to feel any sympathy for him when he dished out all the attitude, but she tried anyway.
“It looks like it overheated.” Her stalker straightened from the cockpit of the car.
“You think?” Jeez, the car redlined, then almost blew up. She didn’t need him to tell her that. In fact, she didn’t need him at all. She Googled the number for AAA.
Her finger paused over the Call icon. Her father paid for her membership. She’d brought lots of cash and no credit cards to keep him in the dark. That was what all the movies did when a person wanted to disappear. She’d been rather proud of herself for thinking of it. And her bank account was still connected to Daddy. Yes, she should have opened her own by now, but there hadn’t really seemed a need, and every time she brought it up, Daddy laughed it off. Why go to all that extra trouble and pay extra bank charges when you didn’t have to? Calling AAA might just blow this whole thing open. Would they call and tell Daddy his daughter was stuck in the middle of whichever desert with her ex-husband’s car and her ex-husband’s younger brother? And a big, blond stalker. Let’s not forget the stalker.
Still, as rescuers went, at least she’d met Thomas Hunter before. Other than looking seriously mad, he didn’t seem all that dangerous. You never could tell, though. “Are you planning to follow me all the way through Utah?”
“Is that where we’re heading?”
“Yes.” Damn, she’d walked right into that, and now he knew where they were going.
“Via New Mexico?”
There was that, but still. She kept her squirming on the inside. “I never actually got as far as New Mexico, and it’s not my fault. I got turned around in Denver.”
Dakota snorted.
Fat lot of help he’d been, sleeping most of the way. Giving her crap the rest of the time and making it even harder to concentrate. “I must have missed the signs in that roadwork.”
“Okay, but what about all the other signs along the way?”
“It was dark!” Enough with the interrogation, he had some explaining of his own to do. “You’ve been following me all this time?”
He shrugged one shoulder, as if people did this sort of thing every day.
“That’s illegal.” Not to mention creepy and annoying as hell.
“No.” He didn’t seem to give it a moment’s thought. “What’s illegal is what your husband did. I need to find Luke, and you are my best chance of doing that.”
“Ex-husband.”
“Not according to the law.” He folded his arms over his chest. Muscle bulged beneath his tan skin. The sort of arms a girl wanted to gnaw on. Focus, Tiffany!
It all felt like too much, and she wanted to sit down. She looked around for a likely rock and found nothing. Her feet gave a sympathetic throb. This was getting totally out of hand. How the hell had she ended up as this girl? The one who needed rescuing by a virtual stranger.
By lying, that was how. By not getting her divorce because some part of her couldn’t let it go. Now she just wanted to get on with her life. The one she wanted, not the one she was living right now. Was that too much to ask? God, she felt tired. Tired enough to crawl into a ball and sleep.
Thomas stared at her.
Dakota stood beside him, looking pissed.
No change there, then. She dragged her gaze away from them. When had she managed to collect all these men in her life? All of them, currently or potentially, mad at her. “Now what?”
“It looks like you have a problem.” Thomas jerked his head at the Miura.
“Don’t worry about it.” She hauled up some bravado from somewhere. God knew she didn’t have a whole lot of it to spare right now. “I’ll sort it out.”
Thomas grunted and shook his head. “How?”
“The usual way.” She waved an airy hand. Her heart sunk right into her murderous Jimmy Choos. She was going to have to call AAA and risk them getting hold of Daddy. The gig was up. She really should have known better than to try to pull something like this off, by herself. Unless . . .
It wasn’t much, but it was worth a shot. She had to face facts, and she wasn’t swimming in options right now.
“You’re right.” Her voice stroked the air, soft and husky. She widened her eyes and blinked at him, a slow lowering of lashes. Ergh! Doing this made her skin crawl. She hadn’t put Delilah on in years. But if Delilah could pull her out of the fire this one time, it was worth a shot.
His brows rose above his sunglasses.
She slunk toward him, her hips slipping into a swaying rhythm as easily as if they did this all the time.
Fraud, yelled her conscience.
Shut up. Tiffany stamped on it. We do this like Delilah or we call Daddy.
Her conscience slithered away, grumbling.
One top strap slipped down her shoulder and she left it there. When she was close enough to touch, she stopped and peered up at him. “I’m so silly.” Perfect. A shade apologetic, and a whole lot bedroom. “I should never have taken the Miura.” A teardrop misted on her lashes and she blinked it away.
He bent his neck to look down at her.
Tiffany peered up at him, resting her hand below the swell of his pectoral muscle. Warm, hard flesh pressed against her palm through the softness of his T-shirt. “It’s just . . .” Biting her lip, she gave a little shrug. The strap slid another inch down, exposing the top swell of her breast. “I don’t know that much about cars. I was desperate and I didn’t think.”
His expression was unreadable through his glasses. Was he buying this crap? He opened his mouth and shut it again.
“I don’t know what to do.” She pressed a bit closer. Her belly cramped, ready to heave at her own bullshit. He smelled great, like warm skin with a touch of spice. “Do you think you can help me? I’d be very grateful.”
“I’m not going to leave you here.” He cleared his throat.
“You’re not?”
“No, I would never do that.”
Apparently, men really did have only enough blood to work one head at a time. “You’ll help me? Really?”
“Jesus.” Dakota’s eyes bugged out of his head. “She’s totally playing you.”
Thomas’s head snapped over to the boy and back at her.
So close. A few more seconds and he would’ve offered to carry her all the way through Utah.
“For real?” Thomas frowned down at her.
A split-second decision was called for. She dropped Delilah back in her box. “I’m desperate.”
“Damn.” His chest expanded on a huge in-breath. “You’re scary good at that.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “It has its uses.”
“Did you see that?” Thomas turned to look at Dakota. “She totally had me going.”
Dakota rolled his eyes.
Tiffany tried to get a read on Thomas. “I need to find Luke and find him fast.”
“Why?” His head snapped back to her. “Why would you need to find Luke so badly you’d do something like this?”
Like hell she was telling him that. He already knew too much about her.
“Because her daddy doesn’t know she’s not divorced,” Dakota said.
All the breath left her in a rush. Dakota had thrown her under the bus. She turned to glare at him. They didn’t even know this man, and Dakota handed out her life like it was for public consumption.
“What?” Thomas whipped off his glasses.
The direct glare of his blue eyes made her want to crawl away. She could only imagine what he was making of all of this. If it hadn’t been her life in such a mess, she might have even seen the craziness herself.
“Her father thinks she’s divorced.” Dakota put another nail in her coffin.
Thomas looked from her to Dakota and back again. “I don’t get it. Why not tell him you’re not divorced and fly down to Utah like a normal person?”
God, it bugged her how reasonable that question was. “Are you going to help me or not?”
For a long, tense moment, he stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest.
Tiffany met his gaze. Tension prickled down her nape and snapped her spine straight.
He shook his head and stepped away from her. Grabbing his phone out of his back pocket, he thumbed through it. “Yes, good morning. I’m gonna need a tow truck. My car has broken down . . .”
Yes!
“You almost blew it.” Dakota glared at her.
“Bullshit.” She kept her voice low and her gaze on Thomas. “And what the hell are you doing? You had no right to tell him all that about me.”
Dakota snorted. “I did you a favor before he figured out you were playing him. We need his help, Barbie. Even you can figure that out.”
He’s just a kid. He’s just a kid. If she said it often enough and loud enough, she might stop in time before she wrung his scrawny neck.
“It shouldn’t take too long,” Thomas said. “We are less than thirty miles from the nearest town and they have a tow truck available.”
“Great.” It would be safe to estimate a tow truck traveled at the speed limit. So, sixty-five miles per hour, supposing the driver was already on his way, meant he would be here in 27.7 minutes. Unless the driver was not in town but on another tow. Assuming he worked on an average radius of thirty miles from the town . . . Tiffany dug in her bag and grabbed her book. Thomas’s gaze swung her way and she slipped it deeper into the bag again. Later.
The sun pounded on the empty road.
Dakota huffed a loud breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Can I ask you something?” Thomas broke the silence.
“Can I stop you?”
He flashed her an appreciative grin. “What made you drive the Miura?”
Dakota made a rude noise and gave her a smug look. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him. The answer to Thomas’s question was not something she was prepared to get into, so she shrugged. “It’s a car, isn’t it?”
Thomas gave a huff of laughter. “Yes, but it’s a vintage sports car. They’re not generally used to drive across the country.”
“Apparently not.” She glared at the Miura. Still, when a girl needed a divorce settlement yesterday, there was very little she wouldn’t do.
“So, why?” Looking like he was enjoying a tailgate party, he leaned his hips against the fender of his truck.
Stalker or not, that truck had air-conditioning. Another little refinement vintage sports cars didn’t have. The truck had air-conditioning and seats. Getting off her killer shoes for a bit sounded like salvation. With her makeup melting down her face, her smile didn’t quite make it. God help all of them if she ended up with wrinkles from sun exposure. “Can I sit in your truck?”
“Sure.” He strolled to the side of the truck and opened the passenger door.
Taking that as an open invitation, Dakota dove into the back.
Tiffany limped the few feet to the truck like she was walking over splintered glass. Thomas cupped her elbow, and as much as she would like to have been too proud to lean on him, her feet hurt too much and she let him guide her into the truck. The hand under her elbow had a warm, strong grip. She toed off her shoes. Heaven. Sweet Mother of God, it made her tear up.
Thomas climbed in the driver’s side and turned on the air.
She put her face in front of the vent. The kiss of cold air against her face was better than a skin-rejuvenating facial. She totally got why dogs did this. “It’s a symbolic gesture.” She was so pathetically grateful to be off her feet and out of the heat and she didn’t have to tell him more than the bare bones. “The car.”
“Don’t tell me that is the Miura?” His gaze sharpened and he looked from her to the Miura and back again. A knowing grin split his face.
Tiffany’s heart sank. Obviously he and Luke really had been friends. The thought of how much Luke had told him had her squirming in her seat. There was not a lot to be proud of in her Luke years. Despite the cold air blowing on them, her cheeks heated.
Thomas whistled beneath his teeth. “Yeah, that would be some kind of symbolic gesture. You had her repaired?”
“Yes.” The humiliation of that time, so angry and betrayed by Luke, still burned inside her. Now Thomas Hunter knew about her mammoth tantrum. Tiffany hunched her shoulders and stared out her window. Thank God, he went silent. Desert stared back at her. She really wished she knew what to call the dry, shimmering expanse. The thready beat of drums from Dakota’s Beats whispered from the back of the truck.
“That must have taken some money.”
“It did.” Tears burned the back of her lids, and she had to get out of that truck before she made more of a fool of herself. “I’m going to check on the car.”
“I thought you were hot.”
She slid her feet into her shoes again. Even the sheer torture of four-inch heels in the desert was better than staying here and talking about the Miura.
He made a motion to go with her.
Even if it was hotter than a sauna out there, she needed some breathing room. “Don’t.”
* * *
Thomas whistled beneath his teeth as she strutted over to the Miura. His brief look into the cockpit had told him the car had been lovingly put back together. No expense spared to restore her beauty. “That is one beautiful machine.”
“Sounds like crap, though.” Dakota decided to join the conversation.
“No, that’s twelve cylinders of awesome making sure you’re paying attention.” Thomas didn’t need his Spidey sense to know a whole lot was going on here. Watching her drive away from the condo the other morning, he’d made a snap decision to follow her. He’d tracked her across three states, becoming more and more convinced with each passing mile that he’d done the right thing. He’d lost them and wasted time trying to pick up the trail in Denver.
Fortunately, Dakota liked to keep the world up to date via Instagram, and he’d picked up the trail again. Standing by the side of the road, she’d looked about as lost and helpless as a girl could look. Some screwed-up sense of chivalry had him buckling into his armor and ready to come to her rescue. He needed some answers here because she said she didn’t know where Luke was. He wasn’t sure what to believe at this stage. Maybe Dakota had some answers for him.
He turned in his seat to face the kid. “You’re looking at the sexiest car ever made. And this one is an SV, top of the range, last off the line.” Thomas itched to get that hood open, but he’d better wait until she cooled down—Tiffany and the Miura.
“So, what makes it so special?”
“For its time, it was revolutionary.” The kid’s expression stayed flat and dull, but at least he was talking. Just what kind of shit was Dakota into? Another question for another day. Those two toughs in Chicago had melted away before Thomas could get close to them. All Dakota had said was yes to pepperoni and no to olives. “The shape.” Thomas traced the lines of the car with his hands. “Everything else was still boxy and solid and then they unveiled this baby. You see how it echoes the shape of an airplane wing?”
“No.”
“Try harder.”
“Uh . . . okay, sort of.”
“Right, so it blew all the competition out the water. It’s still rated by car lovers as one of the most beautiful cars ever made. At the time, Lamborghini was still new. They were an upstart tractor manufacturer and they were gunning for Ferrari.” Thomas shook his head and smiled. “Ferrari must have been so pissed to see this little beauty hit the road.”
“So, it’s a cool shape. Lame.” Dakota sniffed.
“No, man.” Thomas could feel himself getting into his subject. He had to watch for people’s eyes glazing over when he found his zone. “The engine. They mounted it transversely behind the cab to make sure they could fit a long V-12 onto a short wheelbase. It’s got two massive Weber carburetors on it, twelve pistons, four camshafts, and twenty-four valves. All that and the timing chain, and they’re right by your head when you drive. That’s before you get on the road and let those twin exhausts purr at you.”
“Huh.” Eyeing the car, Dakota shrugged. “You like this stuff?”
“Sure. It’s sexy, makes a lot of noise, and goes fast. What’s not to like?”
Outside, Tiffany touched the hood and snatched her hand back quickly.
“No, I mean like science and stuff?” Dakota indicated his tee. It was one of his favorites: Come to the nerd side, we have pi.
“Yeah.”
Tiffany tucked her hand into her armpit and crossed the other arm over it.
“So, you’re like a geek.”
“Not like a geek.” Thomas laughed. “I’m total geek.”
“Then what’s with all the—” Dakota made a vague hand motion to encompass his chest.
Thomas looked down at himself. No grease stains, yet, but if he got that hood up, no promises. “What?”
“The muscles and shit.”
“These?” He raised his arm and popped his bicep. “Dude, these are strictly for the ladies.”
Dakota gaped at him, mouth open. It took the kid a moment to catch on that Thomas was kidding around, and then, the tiniest of smiles tilted one corner of his mouth. “Seriously?”
Tiffany stomped to the edge of the road. It took some kind of balance in those sky-high heels. They turned her walk into one long, undulating torment for any straight man watching it. Thomas also wasn’t sure it was within the laws of physics to move in a pair of jeans that tight. Not that he was complaining. That was one fine ass she had there. He was also nearly certain she wasn’t wearing a bra under that tiny little top.
Thomas shifted in his seat and shut the door on his wayward thoughts. “Okay, seriously. I have two older brothers. Both of them are crazy overachievers. I wasn’t going to get left behind in any way, shape, or form. They got fit. I got fitter. They bulked up. I bulked up more. Sibling rivalry.”
“That’s so fucked up.”
Man, the kid had a mouth on him. “Not at all. It would only be unhealthy if I did it without knowing why. As a kid, I wanted to be as good as, if not better than them. Now I work all over the world. In the sort of places it pays to be in shape.”
“Like where?” Dakota curled his lip back.
“Zambia, most recently. Before that I spent some time in Cameroon. That’s a tough place, you have to be fit to survive it.”
Dakota sniffed and stared out the window at Tiffany. She paced alongside the edge of the road, stopped, and raised her hand to stare into the distance.
“So, what’s her story?” Thomas kept the question casual.
Dakota swung his gaze back at him and raked him over with dark eyes. “Why don’t you ask her?”
Damn, the kid clammed up same as he had the other night. Thomas feigned a casual shrug. “She’s not really into sharing with me.”
“Dude.” Dakota sneered. “You followed her from Chicago.”
Yeah, there was that.
Tiffany slunk back to the truck. Ignoring the helping hand he offered, she settled into the front seat with a soft sigh. She frowned at the front of his shirt and rolled her eyes.
He could hear the gears in her head turning, and it made him smile. “What? You don’t like pie?”
“I don’t eat pie.”
She smelled great. The lady didn’t want to play nice, though. Tough shit. He wasn’t above a little bribery. “I picked up your extra luggage.”
Her chin jerked up and she eyed him through narrowed slits. “You did what?”
“When I saw you leave your condo, I waited for a bit, and when you didn’t come back, I had a chat with the doorman and he let me up. Your housekeeper was there. She thought you left your luggage behind, so I brought it.”
“And she told you where I was?” Those blazing green eyes of hers could burn holes in his head.
Best he not get into the how of persuading her housekeeper and her doorman into letting him into her apartment. Tiffany already had him on America’s Most Wanted. “I told you, I need to find Luke.” And he wasn’t above doling out some flattery and charm to the housekeeper to get it. “It’s urgent.”
“So you followed us?” She gave a soft growl and shook her head.
Okay, it didn’t look good when viewed from her angle. “I’m not weird or anything. I just really need to find Luke, and you’re my best shot at that. I got lucky, too. Dakota put your whole journey on Instagram. I just followed the pictures.”
Tiffany shot Dakota a filthy look.
“You’re welcome.” Dakota glowered at her.
What was up with these two?
Turning back to him, her eyes narrowed to grim lines of suspicion. “Why do you need to find Luke so badly?”
“Why doesn’t your dad know you’re not divorced?”
Her lips tightened and she turned to look out the window.
* * *
Tiffany glared at the desert. As much as she wanted to know what the hell Thomas Hunter’s deal was, she didn’t want to answer his questions in return. For now, they were stuck together and she was a tiny bit grateful he was there. When the tow truck came, they could go their separate ways again. Unless he decided to keep following her all the way to Luke.
“Is there more in the car?”
“What?” She turned back to him.
“More luggage.” He smiled the sort of smile that must go over really big with the girls in Geekville.
“Yes.” Bits of her teetered on the edge of melting. Picking up her luggage had been a nice thing to do, even if he’d used it as a way to get information out of her housekeeper. “I’ll get it.”
“No, I’ll get it.” He already had the door open and swung back to Dakota. “You got everything?”
Dakota jerked his chin at the backpack sagging against the seat beside him.
Muscle bunched and coiled beneath his tee as Thomas strode over to the Miura and leaned in. He straightened and she dragged her stare away from that supreme ass. With her bag in one hand, he turned back to the truck.
The slogan on his shirt almost made her laugh out loud. Pi, one of those glorious mystery numbers that she should know all about. Except the once or twice she’d asked someone, they’d given her the pretty moron look that made her want to squirm and howl. Apparently, it was one of those hundreds of things she should’ve learned in school. After you got that look enough times, you learned not to ask. God, she just knew pi would be something worth knowing about, a number that could unlock a whole world of other stuff. The bits she picked up on the Internet had her salivating for more. She wanted to know about the infinite series, how the rate of conversion worked. Things she’d read and not understood. With nobody to ask, she had learned to keep her questions to herself.
Thomas was still outside, so she reached over and grabbed her book. Working quickly, she thumbed open the lock and made a quick note of the slogan. It really was funny.
“Is that her luggage?” Leaning over the backseat, Dakota faced the open hatch at the rear.
“Yup.” Thomas loaded her remaining bag into the covered cab of his truck.
“She’s such a girl.”
Tiffany tucked her book back into her bag. “She’s sitting right here.”
Dakota pursed his lips together in a sullen snarl. They had gone to bed the night before and got up that morning without exchanging so much as a grunt. Ninety-six hours, she’d thought, ninety-six hours and then she was free to become Mrs. Ryan Cooper. This was going to put a real wrinkle in her timing. By her calculation, the tow truck should be another fifteen minutes, unless she’d miscalculated and the tow truck worked a wider radius. Then again, they were in Utah. Utah? For the love of God, what could Luke be doing in Utah?
Thomas climbed back into the truck.
“Thanks,” she said. “For getting my luggage.”
“It shouldn’t be much longer until the tow truck gets here.” He checked his watch.
She nodded that she understood. All the driving was catching up with her. That and the heat. She hadn’t slept well because of the coming meeting with Luke. The last conversation they’d had face-to-face hadn’t gone well. Tiffany hunched her shoulders. It had been a disaster with both of them yelling and screaming, her crying, him looking like putting his fist through a door. The look on Luke’s face when he’d seen what she’d done to the Miura was burned in the back of her brain.
At some point around three that morning, she’d made a decision. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Ryan and Daddy were right. She needed to put Wild Tiffany away and get on with her life. There was no reason for the conversation with Luke to go badly. With the Miura as her ace in the hole, all she had to remember was she was not the same girl. Luke wasn’t going to make her angry because she wasn’t going to allow him that sort of control over her emotions. She would logically point out how neither of them could get on with their lives while they were still married, give him the car, and then it was back to Willow Park and a quick divorce. Maybe she would even manage an apology for what she’d done to the car, but that might be pushing her maturity too far. If she could, she vowed, she would.
“How long is this going to take?” Dakota threw himself around in his seat.
God, his shirt was awful. Did people actually make things that ugly? And who bought them? Dakota, obviously, but who else had that little taste? What was it with these two and their shirts? She gestured toward the disturbing logo. It looked kind of evil. “What is that?”
Dakota shoved his Beats back over his ears. Another slap in a whole series of them from Dakota. Maybe she’d grow immune to them by the time they found Luke.
“Anaal Nathrakh.” Thomas answered her.
Tiffany stared, no closer to knowing.
“Grindcore metal band,” Thomas said.
“You know them?” Dakota’s eyes narrowed as he studied Thomas.
Was Dakota wearing eyeliner? Note to self: keep makeup case locked. She didn’t want him in there messing with her Clarins. The memory of what he could do with nail polish nearly made her laugh. Lola’s ridiculous dog with streaks of Summer Sizzle Red all over his fur.
“Sure.” Thomas grinned at Dakota. He really did have a nice smile. It crinkled up the corners of his eyes and made furrows down either side of his tanned cheeks. “I saw them when I was last in Germany. Incredible concert.”
Dakota actually sat forward, his eyes sparkling with interest. “Really? Did they do ‘Between Shit and Piss We Are Born’?”
Tiffany groaned beneath her breath. This was going to be one long nightmare.