Page 4 of Trick or Trouble
Darcy felt that flicker of attraction again—unwelcome, and completely unfair.Good-looking men weren’t to be trusted.Their best friends were themselves and a good mirror.And this one came with his own personal warning label:May cause heat, headaches, and leave occasional handprints in low places.With a huff, she turned away.
“Turn left at the next corner, my car is parked there,” she instructed.At least it should be around the next corner.She’d parked it a few blocks away and walked to her destination, the glorified “Bates Hotel”, otherwise known as The Rocking Chair Motel.
How appropriate.
Waiting to see if Mr.Beefy would come back out with his overblown mistress was boring, but it was a job.Then she’d been accosted by this throwback to another century.Her bottom was still stinging.
Despite her abused rear, Darcy was strangely aware of Logan, as if her body was subtly adapting to his, seeking closeness.She didn’t have a good track record with men and was more wary than that cat in a roomful of baying hounds.Her friend still wanted her to see a therapist—the irony of that seemed to have escaped Amy.But then Amy was sweet, kind, and had married her high school sweetheart.No unwelcome secrets springing up at the wrong moment in that relationship—it was more stable than a concrete block.
“Is that your car?”
Her eyes slid reluctantly sideways, drawn by his low voice—rough as whiskey, warm like a campfire, but edged with something that made her skin tingle.Dangerous in a way that made her want to run as far away and as fast as she could.For a split second, she was caught in the pull of his voice—until her gaze landed on her ’98 Taurus.Any flutter of awareness was bulldozed by the cold punch of horror that slammed into her chest when she saw what was left of her beloved car.
“Stop,” she yelled as she scrabbled for the car door.Before he was fully stopped, she jumped out of his car and ran to the decimated remains of her baby.This wasn’t vandalism; it was a back-alley predator attack.All four tires were gone.Stereo torn out.The engine was gutted and stripped bare like an animal carcass picked clean by greedy vultures.Her baby—her faithful, slightly rusty, coffee-stained baby—was nothing but trash now.And she’d just made the last payment on it.
Frantically, she dropped to her knees, the asphalt of the roadway biting into her orange and black striped tights.Shoving her hand beneath the driver’s seat, she swept her fingers back and forth, praying that the thieves had somehow missed it.Please, please—but it wasn’t to be.
Empty—her purse was gone.
Darcy pushed to her feet, stomach sinking with the certainty that the universe really did have it out for her.The Gods of luck had turned their back on her.Groaning, she placed both forearms against the edge of the door, banging her head between them in a monotonous thumping rhythm.“This could only happen to me,” she muttered, her eyes tightly shut.
“Something else wrong?”
She spun around to see Mr.Tall, dark, and annoyingly male watching her with a glint of curiosity tinged with sympathy.“Of course not, I just enjoy banging my head on cars, it’s good for the brain.Didn’t you know that?”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t rise to her jab.“I’ll let that pass since you’ve obviously had another shock...that is, if this is your car?”
“Of course, it’s my car!”Was the man dense, along with his other alpha failings?“I only like to headbang my car, you know?Other people tend to get weird when you dent their vehicles.”
Steel slid into his voice.“That’s enough.There is no need to be unpleasant and rude.”His tone dipped lower.“If you keep it up, I may turn you over my knee for another spanking.”
The words were flat, specific, like a man who didn’t bluff.They pressed in on her, like a door slowly closing in a dark hallway, and her pulse skipped a beat.
Darcy’s self-preservation radar started blaring.The hair on the back of her neck stood up like it always did when danger was afoot.
Still, he couldn’t have it all his way.
“Don’t even think it,” she warned, low and tight.
His voice was deliberate, unhurried.“I can do more than just think it.”
Darcy was done.This night was an official disaster of the highest proportions.And this graduate from the Alpha Male Academy wasn’t helping.But she knew when to cut her losses.
“Whatever.”
One little word that meant so much.
With a shrug of her slender shoulders, she turned and walked away.At least she could console herself with leaving his smug, handsome face in her rearview.Tears of frustration and temper were building, and she didn’t trust herself not to slap him as if she were beating out a pizza crust while it was in the air—with both hands.
This evening could not have gone more wrong if Hades himself had popped up from the Underworld to torture her personally.Oh—wait.He sent his minion instead, Mr.Wonderful.She wondered if there was a police station nearby or someone on a doorstep who would let her use their phone to make a call.
No such luck.
“Wait, you can’t go running around alone in this neighborhood.”
Once again, she was grabbed by the arm and turned to face her tormentor.“Let go of me,” she hissed.“Using my butt for a stress reliever wasn’t enough for you?Just leave me alone.”She tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let go.Instead, he took the bag off her other arm and let it fall open.
“Seeing as how you only have a camera in this bag,” he drawled, “I’m guessing you left your wallet, phone, and money in the car.And now it’s all gone.”
