We make it six hours of the nine hour trip when a tire blows out, sending the car screeching across the highway. I swear under my breath and slow to a stop on the shoulder. “Wait here,” I tell Taylor while I get out to inspect the damage.

She waits inside, watching me in the side mirror.

I kick at the flattened rear tire.  Great. Just great.

I glance at Taylor. Despite what I told her, she’s unlatching her seat belt and getting out.

She stands next to me in silence watching while I jack up the car and bolt on the flimsy spare from the trunk.

“What are we going to do now?” she asks, once we’re back in the car.

“We won’t be able to go above forty-five on this tire, so we’ll need to pull off at the first repair shop we find.”

We ride in silence for a few miles, the music off, the hum of the roadway louder under the inadequate tire, until after about fifteen minutes, the GPS directs me to a repair shop just off the highway.

Taylor waits while I go inside. The place is run down, poorly managed and lacking in the tire I need. Fuck. I slam my fist against the counter.

After arguing for several minutes with the guy at the counter, I storm outside. Taylor is out of the car and on her feet.

“What are you doing?” she scolds. “That poor kid at the counter is practically shaking.”

I stomp out past her into the parking lot, but can feel her hot on my trail.

“Why are you in such a piss-poor mood?” She jogs to catch up with me. “So we got a flat? Big deal. We’ll get a new tire and we’ll be back on the road shortly.”

“You mean tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” she questions.

“They don’t have the tire we need, and with the shop closing for the night, we won’t be able to get one until the morning.” I keep walking.

Taylor catches up and tugs on my sleeve. “There’s a pizza place across the street. Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. We’ll figure out what to do.”

I glance at her, those big blue eyes are fixed on mine and the pissed off feeling subsides slightly. I give her a tight nod, and follow.

For the next fifteen minutes, I mess around on my phone trying to find the tire I need in stock somewhere else and glance up occasionally to watch Taylor nibbling on a slice of pizza.

She’s certainly not shy about eating. I told her to order whatever she wanted, and while most girls would get a side salad, and some water, she took that literal. Three large slices of pizza piled with spicy sausage and onions. A smile escapes my lips when she catches me watching her eat. But then I go back to my phone.

“Have one.” She slides the tray toward me.

I glance up again briefly, making eye contact. “I’m good.” I search every car place within fifty miles, but I still can’t get the tire delivered to the repair shop faster than tomorrow. So I quit searching for a tire, and instead start looking for a hotel. “Are you about done? I found a place for us to stay tonight.”

Taylor swallows down the last bite of pizza, wiping her mouth across the napkin. “Give me that.” She rips the phone from my hands, shaking her head. She begins tapping at the keys, that little crease appearing between her brows. “There’s nothing more irritating than incompetence,” she mutters under her breath.

I lean back against the booth, knowing she won’t be able to miraculously find something if I couldn’t. But her cockiness is cute. Nice try, sweetheart.

“This freaking Podunk town,” she murmurs next.

I suppress a smile and fold my hands behind my head. “No luck?”

She shoots me a glare that screams fuck off. God she’s adorable when she’s pissed. I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “Are you through? I found us a hotel for the night.”

She squints her eyes at me, her mouth pressing into a line. “Fine.” She slides the phone back across the table toward me.

“Let’s go. The shop probably has our loner ready.”

I slap a twenty down on the table and lead Taylor to the door. 

Chapter 13

At the auto shop there’s a newer model silver sedan waiting for us with the keys already in it, so they don’t have to deal with Colt again, I presume.

We check into a hotel on the nicer side of town. Colt uses his corporate credit card to get us a two-bedroom suite on the hotel’s top floor. When we step into the room, I take a moment to look around. There’s floor to ceiling windows in the living room and the furniture is all pale blues and creams. It’s nice.

I turn to Colt, but it’s obvious his shitty mood is still firmly in place. He slams his duffle bag down onto an arm chair, swearing under his breath.

I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. I don't understand why he’s so worked up. Everything will turn out fine with his precious car. I get that things didn’t go as planned, but we’ll be back on the road tomorrow. Maybe he needs to blow off some steam. Guys like him can’t go from being all revved up to completely cooled down so quickly. An idea takes shape in my mind. “Come on, we’re going out.”

He searches my eyes. “What are you talking about? We just got here.” His voice has a sharp edge to it.

I turn my back, walking toward the door. “We need to get you laid.”

He inhales sharply. “Huh?”

I face him again, my hand still on the door knob. “This is just like Piper’s little brother, he’s crabby when he’s hungry. You’re being crabby right now. Therefore, we need to satisfy your…appetite.” I pull open the door and though he hesitates for just a moment, I can tell he’ll come.

Despite acting like he was against my idea, Colt grins as we step into the elevator. We ride to the ground floor in silence.

Once we reach the hotel lobby Colt hands his ticket to the valet and a moment later, we step outside as the silver sedan pulls to a stop in front of us. Before Colt has a chance to open my door, I lunge for it and hop inside. I don’t need myself getting even more confused about our arrangement. We’re coworkers. That’s it. I desperately need to cling to that perspective. He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath and walks around to his side of the car.

A few minutes later, Colt parks on the street in front of a bar called Whiskey Dicks. I glance up at the sign, then back at him. Seriously?

“Remember this was your idea. I’m just going along with it.” He opens his door and unfolds his tall frame from the confines of the car.

I follow him up to the door where a bouncer is checking IDs. I hesitate. “Colt…” I turn to him and whisper.

“Hush.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, and propels me toward the door. He skillfully slips the bouncer a twenty, and the doors are pulled open for us.

Oh.

Once inside, the smell of beer and cheap perfume overwhelm me. I stay close to Colt’s side. He walks toward the back of the bar, ignoring the stares being directed our way. He acts like he’s been here a thousand times before and settles at a semi-secluded high top table in the corner.

Once we’re seated, I have the chance to really look around. The place is pretty small, one long bar running the length of the room, with a few scattered tables and a mess of stools. The crowd here is young, well, not our age young, but appropriate bar-age young. A cluster of guys mill around a pool table near us, a few girls sway to the too-loud music on the dance floor on the far side of the room. And people everywhere stand around talking, sipping drinks, and laughing out loud.