Page 60 of Pretty Wild

“All right, mister,” I say, sliding over and creating a little space between myself and the door.

Buddy jumps up on the seat, his head hanging out the window.

“Good to go?” Marcus asks, putting the truck in gear.

A swirl of exhilaration sweeps through me. “Yes.”

We head out, Marcus driving the larger truck easily. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Why? Because he’s hot while driving. His arms are all corded muscle framed by a tight T-shirt.Not only is he radiating big dick energy, but now he’s flashing the arm porn. He’s like every woman’s dream right now, and that’s before you add in the rescued dog into the equation.

If I were wearing panties, they’d be annihilated.

Maybe that’s his new nickname. Not buster.

He’s the panty annihilator.

We make our way through the park, toward where the accident is. I’ve seen plenty of fender benders in my time. The 405 and 110 interstates are some of the worst for high traffic volume. I’ve even seen a car flip due to a high rate of speed. Well, I didn’t actually see it flip. It passed me and then wrecked a bit ahead of me. I remember seeing the mangled wreckage left in the median and not being able to sleep that night.

Is that what I’m in for?

Because now that I think about it, I don’t want to see that kind of destruction. Especially if a life was lost.

“Umm, Marcus?” I say, starting to fret a little. My hand instantly reaches out to pet Buddy, the softness of his fur having a calming effect on me.

“Yeah?” he asks without taking his eyes off the road.

“How bad is this accident? Maybe I shouldn’t go,” I say, hearing the hint of a quiver in my own voice.

He takes his eyes off the road for only a second, but I can see the concern. “It’s not bad, I promise. Both cars are damaged enough to warrant a tow, but injuries were minor.”

I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Oh. Okay. Good.”

“I wouldn’t take you to the scene if it was bad, Ryan. It’s not something I enjoy seeing myself, and I’d never subject you to it willingly.”

A huge wave of relief washes over me, and I relax a bit in the seat. Buddy has his head out the window, his tongue dangling in delight. My hair is blowing around, and it’s the first time Irealize I’m not wearing my ball cap. Will people be nearby when we arrive? You know the ones. The gawkers who have nothing better to do than to stand around and watch something that doesn’t pertain to them unfold?

When we finally work our way through the park to what I assume is the main entrance, I see two vehicles with a bit of damage and a police officer standing between them. Once we pull up beside them, I realize the officer is TD, Ellie’s husband.

“Hey, man,” Marcus greets once he stops and climbs out of the cab.

Even though I remain inside the truck, I can easily hear their conversation.

“Which one do you wanna take first?” TD asks.

“Probably the Nissan Pathfinder. It’s in the way. I can get it loaded up and get the glass and debris cleaned up so you can get this intersection opened up.”

“Appreciate it.”

The door opens and Marcus climbs back inside. “I’m going to back up to that small SUV there. I have to position my truck in the middle of the intersection, so I’m going to have you and Buddy go over to that grassy area over there to keep you safe.” He reaches behind the driver’s seat and pulls out a leash.

“Okay,” I answer, glancing around.

Marcus secures the leash to Buddy, who seems eager to go outside. Before I open the door to climb out, he says, “Wait. Here.” I turn to find him digging a ball cap out and holding it out for me. “It may not be the cleanest, but it’ll help shield your face.”

My heart does this wild tippy-tap in my chest as I reach for the hat. I can tell he’s worn it, probably several times. There’s a smear of dirt or grease on the bill and a slight dirt ring around the inside. I’m sure it’s from sweat, and as gross as I would have found this a few days ago, for some reason it doesn’t bother meas much now. The fact Marcus wore this, worked hard while wearing it, makes me feel a little…happy.

I slip it on my head, and of course, it’s way too big. Marcus reaches over and adjusts the plastic strap on the back before replacing it. “There.”

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling all warm and gooey on the inside.

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