She reached the truck to find the passenger window already down.
Her heart stuttered as she peered in. A young man, in his mid-twenties, around her age, she guessed, sat in the driver’s seat. A well-muscled forearm covered in tattoos was slung over the steering wheel as he twisted to face her. The tattoos continued up his arm and vanished beneath the sleeve of his form-fitting white t-shirt. His hair was disheveled and a little too long, and she noticed some more tattoos creeping up his broad neck and a small silver ring embedded in his earlobe. His square jaw was scruffy with stubble, his lips full. When he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were straight and white, and she caught sight of a tiny flash of silver on his tongue.
Jeez, where the hell else is this guy pierced?
The thought made the heat in her cheeks deepen.
“Hey,” the guy said. “You need a ride?”
She couldn’t decide if she should tell him no and keep walking, or accept and climb in his lap. This guy was everything her mother—when she’d been alive—had warned her about. But his eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue, and though he looked like trouble, his smile was soul-meltingly cute.
“Umm, yeah. My car broke down on the highway. I need to get to the next town to find a mechanic.”
He grinned. “You don’t need to get to the next town.”
“Oh?” He’d flustered her. “I don’t?”
“Nah, you’ve got one sitting right here.”
She blinked in surprise. “You’re a mechanic?”
“Sure am. How far back is your vehicle?”
“About a mile south on the highway.”
He reached over to open the passenger door for her, and she tried not to stare at the numerous tattoos, or the way the muscles in his forearm tensed as he pushed open the door. “Jump on in.”
Jenna carefully placed her bags in the foot well and then climbed into the truck. She resisted the urge to get her antibacterial wipes from her bag and wipe down any area she might have to touch. She needed to be careful of germs. Plus, other people driving always made her nervous—she normally avoided it at all costs—and the person doing the driving on this occasion didn’t help.
“So where are you headed?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Nowhere in particular. Just driving until somewhere catches my eye.”
He glanced at her, his eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? You traveling or something?”
“I guess you can say that. I just don’t like staying in one place, that’s all.” Her tone was curter than she’d meant it to be, and he shot her a look, his blue eyes slightly narrowed.
“Anyway,” he said, as he swung the truck in a U-turn and headed back the way she’d just walked. “I’m Ryker.”
“Jenna,” she said, with a smile, trying to make up for her coldness. This guy was offering to help her and she didn’t want to piss him off.
“It’s good to meet you, Jenna. Nothing improves my day more than picking pretty girls up off the side of the road.”
She laughed. “Yeah, right.” He was obviously hoping to get some work from her. He could hold off with the fake flattery. It wasn’t as if she had a whole heap of options.
He pulled back onto the highway, and Jenna leaned over to point at her stalled Honda.
“That’s the one.”
Ryker pulled over. “Okay, wait here. I’ve got some tools in the back. I’ll go take a look. Have you got the keys?”
She passed them over to him, and he gave her a grin and a wink. “I’m a magician with anything with an engine. I’ll get you back on the road in no time.”
“Great, thanks,” she said, though her stomach dipped in disappointment. Had part of her been hoping she might get to spend a bit more time in Ryker’s company? She watched the muscles in his back move beneath his t-shirt, the heat causing the material to cling to his skin, as he ran at a slow jog to the other side of the road.
He pulled up the hood and leaned over, her gaze focusing in on the worn material of his faded jeans over his ass. The tattoos and piercings weren’t the normal thing she went for—if there even was such a thing—but she had to admit the guy was well built.
Jenna gave a sigh and flapped her face with her hand, wishing the old truck had air. The last thing she wanted was to appear a sweaty mess in front of Ryker, though she guessed the ship had already sailed on that front. Anyway, he was just looking for a job and at best had taken pity on the fat girl struggling down the side of the road.
She glanced back over to find Ryker pulling himself out from beneath the bottom of her car. He brushed the dirt from his back and then glanced over to her. He caught her watching and gave his head a slight shake.