He vaulted out of the seat and rounded the back end before she fled.
“Now get in the car.”
“I can’t.” Misery pulled at her expression. “This is all wrong. I’m sorry. I had a stupid plan to trade fixing your car for a ride, but it wouldn’t have needed fixing if I hadn’t sabotaged it. Then you had to be all nice and wonderful and understanding about my...” She waved a flustered hand at her bruises. “Problems. I’m a terrible person, and I can’t take advantage of you.”
Kris bit his lip so the bubble of laughter wouldn’t burst out. “Let me get this straight. You can’t accept a ride because you don’t want to take advantage of me.”
“Your hospitality,” she amended quickly. “I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. Or take advantage in any other way. Not that you’re repulsive or anything. I mean, I would take advantage if I had the opportunity. You’re totally hot.” She hissed out a little moan, and he yearned to hear it again. “That didn’t come out right. Can I crawl in a hole now?”
“No.” He crossed his arms and leaned a hip on the side panel. Was it terrible to be charmed by how negotiating a simple ride tore her up? “It’s too late. You’ve already admitted you can’t be trusted with my virtue. Whatever will I do?”
She glared at him but then her expression wavered. “I do have a reputation in the greater Little Crooked Creek area. Mothers have been known to lock up their sons when they see me coming.”
Her humor and winsome self-deprecation was back, loosening the bands around his lungs. “Well, my mother is six thousand miles away so I guess I’ll have to risk it. Let’s try this. I’ll forgive you for sabotaging the car if you’ll forgive me for not believing you tripped.” Smoothly, he captured her hand and led her to the passenger side. He opened the door. “Shall we?”
She didn’t climb in. Staring at their joined hands, she said, “Yesterday morning you were blissfully unaware I existed. Why do you want to get mixed up in this?”
A fair question, but the wrong one. His involvement had begun the moment she pulled off the highway and ensnared him, forcing him into the action.
A better question was how long he’d stay involved.
“Is someone going to come after me with a shotgun?”
“I doubt it.” She snorted out a laugh. “Bobby Junior and Tackle might consider it, but they’re too busy. The cretins...sorry. My other brothers would have to notice I was gone first.”
“What about your father?”
Shadows sprang into her eyes and her grip tightened. He had his name.
“I honestly can’t say what Daddy would do. That’s the best reason of all for you to forget about me and drive away as fast as you can.”
“You’ve obviously mistaken me for someone without a conscience. I couldn’t sleep at night if I did that. Get in the car, VJ.”
“How can you be real?” She studied his face, the same as she had last night, as if looking for the answers to her deepest questions. “It’s like I dreamed up the perfect man and poof, here you are.”
It should be a crime to be that naive. He dropped her hand. “I’m far from perfect. If you get in the car, you’ll doubtlessly find out I’m not always a fun date. Don’t turn me into some altruistic saint because I’m offering you a ride.”
She hesitated, then nodded once. “Okay. I’ll take the ride, but I’m allowed to worship you in secret or no deal.”
The bruising on her face stood out in sharp relief against her fragile skin yet when the corners of her mouth flipped up in a small smile, he couldn’t help but smile, too. “How could I turn that down?”
He helped her into the passenger seat and slammed the door. She slumped against the leather, and even through the tinted glass, she radiated an aura that pinged around inside him, seeking a place to land.
Dangerous, that’s what she was. When was the last time he’d willingly tossed away his stay-detached rule?
Once settled behind the wheel, he slipped on his sunglasses and said, “I’ve already checked out, so where would you like me to take you? Your girlfriend’s house, the one from last night?”
She stared out the window, pointedly not looking at him. “I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”
VJ flat-handed sunglasses against her face and debated how to explain she was going to Dallas without coming across as a freeloader, or worse, a stalker.
Her only plan had died the second Kris held her and let her cry on his fifty-dollar T-shirt. How was she going to convince him to let her tag along when she had nothing to give him in return? Well, nothing other than an annoying set of calf eyes, cowardice disguised as automotive expertise and twenty-six dollars, twenty of which Kris had tipped her in the first place.