Page 37 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
Part of her felt it was too soon to start thinking about sex, that she should be ashamed of her desires, but the responsible part of her brain recognized that as bullshit. The time to think about what she wanted from a relationship with Mads was now, before they got too involved and intertwined. She had more to think about than just herself and her libido. She had Ruby to consider.
Her goblin had met Mads twice. Whatever relationship they had—lovers or friendly neighbors—would impact her daughter so Odessa needed to have a good long think about that.
That fizzy, warm sensation that had nothing to do with alcohol came back.
“If he’s still there when I get home, I’ll ask him to stay,” she said, filling the silence. There. Dilemma over.
She wanted Mads. She had wanted Mads from the very start, when she discovered a barefoot ten-year-old boy in the forest wearing an antler headband and no shirt. He smiled at her and took her hand, despite being strangers, and she felt like the most important person in the world. That want to have him in her life changed and morphed as they grew. From friendship to awkward first crush to first kiss and then a broken heart, she navigated the way forward with limited visibility like headlights piercing the darkness in a snowstorm.
The car shuddered.
Odessa immediately lifted her foot from the gas pedal and the car slowed, the tire thumping wildly. The back end slid but front tires maintained traction.
Freaking flat tire.
She eased the car to the side of the road and finally stopped. The snow had picked up and came down in heavy flakes. The mechanical clicking of the hazard lights filled the cabin. Checking her phone, she had two bars of reception. Wonderful. Crummy reception and a long wait for the auto club to send someone out, no doubt, because car trouble only happened during bad weather. She’d have to change the tire herself.
No problem. She could do that. It had been a while since she last changed a tire and she had a spare tire, jack and tire iron in the trunk.
Just to save herself the frostbite, she tried calling the auto club, but the call failed. Resigned to cold toes and frozen fingers, she wrapped her scarf tight, zipped up her coat, and lifted the hood.
The sooner she got on with it, the sooner she’d get home to her laundry and shows about sexy astronauts in their underwear.
A gust of wind caught her, pelting snow directly in her face. Nose already dripping and cold, her gloved hands scrubbed her face.
With clumsy, half-frozen fingers, she fumbled to remove the lug nut caps with the key that came with the car. It didn’t seem to fit particularly well. Kneeling on the hard asphalt soaked her jeans and ratcheted up the misery of the situation another notch.
One cap was being stubborn and didn’t want to turn. Her grip slipped and the key fell into the slush.
Odessa tilted her face toward the sky. “Why? This isn’t funny,” she said, addressing no one in particular. Karma, maybe.
Headlights appeared in the distance. She moved to the side of the car furthest from the road, having no desire to get sideswiped by traffic. Her oxfords with the sensible, non-slip soles slipped on the snow-covered grass.
The approaching vehicle did not slow and Odessa assumed it would speed past. At the last moment, it pulled to the side. The headlights blinded her. She raised a hand to shield her eyes but could not make anything out beyond the lights.
A car door opened. “Looks like you’re having trouble,” an unseen man said.
She did not recognize the voice. Something about it made her skin crawl. “Triple A is on their way,” she lied.
“In this weather? You’ll be here until dawn.”
Yeah, thanks for pointing that out.
“My father is on his way too,” she said, desperate for this stranger to believe that she was not alone and stranded on the side of the road.
The man edged closer, walking along the driver’s side of the car. She moved down the passenger side, keeping as much of the car between them as possible. With her back to the headlights, she could make out the features of the man’s face. He had silver hair and he wore a dark green coat. She did not recognize him.
“Flat tire? Bad luck there,” he said. “If you have a spare, I can get it changed and get you home to your daughter.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the snow settled over her. How did he know her? Was he a customer from the store? She normally had a knack for remembering her customers. No, this man was a stranger.
Her hand flexed, gripping a phantom baseball bat. All she had to defend herself was a cell phone with no reception.
She could run. She wasn’t fast but she knew all the hiking trails in the area—and some of the off-trail area—better than a stranger, at least.
Not that she could run far without stopping to catch her breath or puking.
She was going to die, wasn’t she? Strangled and abandoned in the snow, just like in those Scandinavian noir shows she loved to watch. Her death would haunt a worn and depressed cop with family issues until he found her killer, but she knew every cop on the police force. She didn’t want friendly and upbeat Rocco to lose his gentle smile.
