Page 5 of Heartbeats & Highways

I looked behind me at the man who’d mirrored my order. My eyes widened in shock.

Savage stood behind me, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a long sleeved white thermal shirt and a leather cut. His blond hair was mussed, his nose was bruised, and one of his eyes was swollen shut.

He flashed me a smile and winced immediately when his split lip tore open. I was still standing there, frozen in terror like a fawn, when Savage handed over a couple of twenties to the guy in the taco truck.

“Excuse me, some of us would like to order,” a middle-aged man said from behind Savage.

Savage looked at the man. “Manners, dude. What’s the magic word?”

The stranger blinked, clearly not used to having another adult calling him out. “Uh, please.”

“Happy to move, brother,” Savage said. He gently grasped my elbow and moved us out of the way of foot traffic.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, shaking off his touch—and hating that I could feel the imprint of his fingers through my jacket.

“Best tacos in the city,” he said with a shrug. “And I like to celebrate my wins with tacos. Seems kind of like fate that we’re meeting again like this.”

“We’ve never met,” I protested.

“No, you’re right. I was hoping to meet you last night, but you left.”

I took a deep breath. “I left. Yep.” I huddled down in the jacket I’d borrowed from Agnes—the woman who owned the motel I was staying at. She was the one who’d told me about the taco truck.

“Why?” he asked in curiosity.

“Why? Seriously?” I raised my brows and stared at him. “You’re surprised that I left last night instead of . . .”

“Going home with me. Yeah. I’m surprised.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I would’ve thought Daisy or Roxy had told you what the nod meant.”

“They did.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Which isexactlywhy I bailed.”

“Ah.”

“Who did you take home in my stead?” I asked.

“I’d grin at your jealousy, but I don’t want to split my lip again,” he drawled.

“I’m not jealous. I don’t even know you. Why would I be jealous?”

“What’s that saying? Thou doth protest too much?”

“You don’t even know my name,” I pointed out.

“But you know mine, don’t you, darlin’?”

The guy at the window of the taco truck waved at Savage. “Tacos are ready!” he called.

Savage went to the window. The guy handed him a tray with our meals and Savage brought it back toward me.

“Pick a table,” he said.

The taco truck was in the middle of a parking lot and there were several picnic tables that were currently empty. I gestured to the one farthest away from the truck and sat.

Savage set the tray down in the middle of the table and hoisted his body onto the seat. He handed me a couple of napkins and I noticed his swollen knuckles.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said easily.

I paused. “Evie.”

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