Page 4 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

He raised a single eyebrow in question but, thankfully, didn’t say a thing. I wasn’t so sure that was the truth, either.

“What’s the job?” I asked instead.

“Working on the ranch.”

“I might not be very good at that,” I said nervously.

My expertise was actually marketing, with a bit of event planning. There was no way my body would handle manual labor. The will might be there, but my noodle-like arms would definitely fail.

“I’ve no doubt you’ll be terrible.” The corner of his lips ticked up in a smirk, and it lit a fire in me.

“Well, that doesn’t make you sound like a very good employer or business owner.”

“We’ll make a perfect pair, then.” He turned around and started heading back to his truck.

This was it. A turning point in the downward slide that had become my life. I could take a chance with this guy I didn’t know and who could be a serial killer rapist, or I could stand here on the side of the road with no plan, no money, and no one else in the world who gave a crap.

He opened up the passenger side door to the truck and looked at me expectantly.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” I mumbled and jogged to the truck.

He shook his head, almost like he was disappointed in me. Hell, I was pretty disappointed in myself, too. The last person I’d trusted was the reason I was in this entire mess, and I hadn’t met him on the side of the road.

“It’s Reece, by the way,” I said as he watched me climb in and clip the seat belt in place. “My name,” I clarified.

He nodded. “Booker.”

Booker slammed the door and then disappeared. I’d expected him to climb in the driver’s side, and when he didn’t, I twisted in my seat to see if he was prepping a machete or something for me out of sight. Instead, I found him pulling the bags out of the back of my car and moving them into the back of his truck.

I probably should have thought of that.

I watched as he ruffled the hair on his dog’s head and then leaned forward and softly bumped his forehead into hers. It was one of those sweet moments you weren’t supposed to see but told you so much about a person.

When he looked up and saw me watching him through the window, his scowl was firmly back in place. It wasn’t fooling menow. I’d had a peek at the soft, fluffy center this guy was trying to hide, and it intrigued me.

“So, just to clarify, murder isn’t on the cards, then?” I asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

He looked at me for a moment like he was considering it, but then that smirk was back. “Nah, too much mess to clean up.”

CHAPTER TWO

BOOKER

Ipeered into my living room at the woman sitting on my couch looking like a frightened little bird, even if she was trying to pretend like she had all the answers to the world’s problems.

Hiding in the kitchen wasn’t exactly the best idea, but then inviting her back to the ranch and telling her I’d give her a job wasn’t something I’d ever do, either.

Hell, I had the ranch because I’d take horses over people any day.

But as soon as I’d looked through the car window and seen her bruised and breaking down inside, I knew she needed help.

And for some reason, I knew I was the one who would give it to her.

Which was completely against my nature.

Now, she was sitting in my living room looking so lost, and I had absolutely no idea what to do apart from lecturing her about the dangers of getting into a car with a man she didn’t know, even if that man had been me.

I pulled my cell out of my pocket and glared at it.

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