Page 4 of Next to You

“I’ve already learned my lesson. There will be no more after-dark excursions to Taco Time. At least not in winter, believe me. And hey, can we keep this between the two of us?”

I didn’t mention my unfortunate date. No one needed to know about that.

“Absolutely. These lips are sealed.” He mimed turning a key in a lock over his grinning lips. “I won’t say a word. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Thanks.” I breathed, stupidly thrilled at the notion of sharing a secret with him. Even one as innocent as this.

“Put this on.” He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me.

“I couldn’t. What about you? Then you’ll be cold.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big guy.” He held it up, not taking no for an answer. I turned and let him help me slide into it.

It was huge. And warm. And it smelled like him—sandalwood, spice, and the crisp, clean scent of the icy fresh air outside. I almost groaned out loud but managed to refrain.

“Thank you. Freezing to death was becoming a real concern.”

“Not on my watch. You’re going to be home and safe before you know it.”

Chapter 2

Spencer

Lucy Darlington.

Damn, she was gorgeous. She always had been. Soft, wavy hair the color of butterscotch and big brown eyes. We were the same age and often sat next to each other in school. I’d always had a thing for her, but we were total opposites. She was all about good grades, lots of activities, and going to college. She was an artist; I remember watching her draw in art class, mesmerized by the beauty she filled our assignments with. All I had cared about was fixing cars to race with my brothers. I never gave a shit about school, except for seeing her there.

I’ve toyed with the idea of asking her out on and off throughout the years, but I never found the right time. One of us was usually unavailable whenever the thought crossed my mind. Plus, what would someone like her do with a man like me? She was a children’s book author and illustrator, and I rebuilt cars and drove a tow truck. We were still opposites.

I made quick work of hooking up her car, frowning when the snow started falling again in earnest. The road was iced over and slippery beneath my boots. I hurried back to the truck and climbed inside with a shiver. The temperature was dropping at an alarming rate.

“It’s coming down hard again. Do you still live at the Honeybrook?” Her grandparents owned The Honeybrook Inn. Word was that she lived in the forest behind the main building in one of the cabins they rented out.

“Yeah. Will we be able to make it there?” Her gorgeous eyes drifted away from mine toward the snowfall outside the windshield. “It’s getting bad.”

“Bad? It’s gone well beyond bad now. It’s downright disrespectful out here. But we haven’t failed yet.” I patted the dashboard, questioning whom I was trying to reassure—her or myself, or maybe the truck. The road was slick; I almost slipped on the pavement as I walked back to the cab.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, gesturing to the bag of tacos.

I peered through the windshield at the mass of white flurries swirling in the glare of my headlights. We were losing visibility fast. With the icy road conditions, I wondered if we should spend the night right here in the truck.

“Not anymore,” I admitted, suddenly too on edge to even think about food.

“Oh damn. I knew it. We’re in trouble, aren’t we? I should have stayed at home. I’m so sorry. You would be way closer to town if you hadn’t stopped to help me.” The tremor in her voice chased my trepidations away. I was determined to get her home safe.

“No. Please don’t apologize to me, Lucy. Would you rather be alone out here? No way, your car would have been buried by morning with you inside of it. Then what? Anything could happen to you out here.”

“Okay, what’s done is done, right? No more apologies. At least we know we won’t get buried in this truck. It’s too tall for that.”

“Right. We’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” I pulled away from the side of the road, trying not to let my doubts show. It was dumping snow like crazy, and even my truck had limitations.

So far, so good. We were driving steady, and I let out a relieved breath as we slowly but surely headed up the road. Silence descended between us as I shifted my focus to keeping us on the road.

The quiet was unnerving during a storm like this. The chill in the air and the heavy snowfall muffled the usual ambient sounds. It was a phenomenon unlike any other. It felt strange, like wearing earmuffs or being trapped in an echo chamber, and I hated it. But the combination of silence and darkness was what truly unsettled me. This is why I was headed home instead of cruising around all night looking for people to help, like my brothers and father were doing right now.

“It’s not snowing anymore,” she whispered, then pointed wildly out the front window. “Look out, Spencer, I think there’s ice and sleet up ahead.”

With white knuckles, I held on to the steering wheel, trying to keep us steady. I could hardly see the road in front of us anymore, the flurries were so thick. The truck skid, sliding back and forth in a chaotic zig-zag as I gripped the wheel tight, fighting to keep control.

---