Page 38 of Rocky Mountain Desire
“What!” Matt pulled the phone from his ear and clutched the steering wheel tight to stop from flinging anything anywhere, including his own vehicle in front of hers to act as a guard.
He counted to ten. Twice. Then he spoke. “Hey, you still there?”
“For all of five seconds if you continue to be a shithead.”
Matt collected his hard-won calm and forced it into his voice. “Sorry, that was just a momentary lack of concentration. Let me get this straight. Hope came to you and asked for the hunk of junk that’s been out rusting behind the far barn for years.”
“She did.”
“And you sold it to her?”
“I gave it to her. Well, fine, sold it for a dollar. Just to make it legal.”
Oh God.“Shit, Blake. Still…I mean…”
His brother rumbled back, his own annoyance coming through. “Yeah, I know the truck’s a piece of crap. But she had valid reasons and insisted it would work. She brought over a new battery, a couple of milk crates to secure shit in the back and we used binder twine to lash the front seat in place.”
Matt’s temper raced upward again. “Did you say binder twine? Goddamn, Blake! So, what’s going to happen if she’s in an accident?”
“She said it’s only temporary, but she needs a way to get around.”
“I don’t like it.”
Blake snorted. “Tough shit. I don’t think it’s your choice, is it?”
“Would you let Jaxi ride in there with her?” The silence at the other end of the line was enough to make his point come through loud and clear. Matt knew he had Blake. “Right. That’s what I thought. Good luck convincing me you had nothing but—”
“Does she know you know she has the beast?”
“Since I just took her out for dinner and I’m following her to the ski hill, umm, yeah.”
“What’d she say to you?”
“Nothing.”
Blake sighed. “Not going to tell you your business, but if the DMV approved her, and she got the thing insured, not much you can do.”
Not without coming off like the over-controlling jerk of the century. “I hear you.”
“I promised to keep an eye out for a good deal. Something smaller. You got to admit, that piece of crap is a bloody tank. If she does lose control, she’d win the fight with ninety percent of what’s out there for her to hit.”
“You’re not making this any better, Blake.”
“Sorry.” A high-pitched cry reverberated in the background. “Gotta go. Princess Becca is commanding my presence. Have fun at the hill.”
“Yeah, run and hide behind the babies. I’m still pissed at you.”
Hope made it to the parking lot in one piece, and Matt pulled in beside her, staring at the dash as he went through and discarded different responses.
Blake was right—it was her choice.
She was going to get her neck broken.
If she did get hurt, he was going to kill his brother.
The truck should have been driven straight to the edge of the dump and pushed off years ago.
A light tap on the window pulled him back to discover Hope staring in. She wore an old-fashioned jester cap on her head, complete with bells on the ends of the long, dangling tassels. Neon green and pink, it was hilarious and ridiculous, and made him smile at her total lack of self-consciousness.
