He plugged his phone into the AUX port of the rented SUV and scrolled through his music until he found something that matched his mood. Metallica. Loud and angry and overwrought with angst.
The pounding drums and wailing guitars were the perfect soundtrack for the empty stretch of road. He’d already hit towns in Michigan, Ohio, Indiana and Illinois. His next stop would be Iowa, followed by Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska and the Dakotas if he could squeeze them in. His agent needed the photos by the end of June. They’d be featured in National Geographic’s sister magazine, American Geographic, which was slowly gaining prestige as a top travel publication.
So far, he’d enjoyed his time on the road. Well, except for the nights. The pity parties always seemed to commence once he was settled in various shithole motel rooms, and he’d been getting such little sleep that it was a wonder he could make the fourteen-hour-a-day drives without dozing off behind the wheel.
The coffee helped, though. So did the earsplitting heavy metal bursting out of the speakers.
Austin felt oddly at peace as he sang along to “Enter Sandman” and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The conversation with Nate slowly seeped out of his head, allowing him to focus on the scenery rolling by and the fresh summer air wafting in through the open window. There were no other cars on the two-lane highway and not many structures on either side of the road, just endless fields, colorful flowers, and trees in their summer prime. Everything was green and so beautiful he was momentarily glad he’d taken this gig. Normally he didn’t do much traveling in the States, and especially not around these parts, but he had to admit, the Midwest was prettier than he’d ever imagined.
Twenty minutes later, he decided the Midwest wasn’t just pretty—it was smoking hot.
Or rather, the sweet ass on the side of the road was smoking hot.
And he wasn’t being a macho jerk for thinking of the woman up ahead as sweet ass, because all he could actually see was her ass. That round little bottom, hugged by cutoff denim shorts, was jutting out in the air as its owner leaned under the open hood of a beat-up white Toyota that looked like it belonged in a junkyard.
Austin eased his foot off the gas, a smile springing to his lips as he studied the damsel in distress. He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed she had great hair—reddish blond waves that stopped just above her shoulders and shone in the morning sunlight. Her bright purple tank top revealed her to be slender, and those shorts showed off a pair of tanned, shapely legs along with that spectacular bottom.
The woman’s back stiffened when she heard the sound of Austin’s engine. She quickly straightened up and turned to investigate. The moment she spotted his car, she started waving vigorously.
Austin would have stopped regardless, but that one glimpse of her face was definitely an incentive to pull over a little faster. The redhead wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but beautiful in a wholesome, fresh-faced way that made his heart beat a little bit faster. She had big blue eyes, freckled cheeks, and pouty pink lips that were currently being nibbled on by her teeth.
The second his car came to a stop, his distressed damsel rushed over to the driver’s side and flashed an enormous smile.
“Thank you so much for stopping! You wouldn’t believe how many cars sped right by me. What happened to all the Good Samaritans? Are they extinct?”
She looked so upset and insulted that Austin had to laugh. “Well, you’re looking at one, so clearly there’re a few of us left.” He reached for the door handle. “What seems to be the problem?”
The redhead bit her lip again. “I don’t know. My car just died. It didn’t make any weird noises, didn’t overheat, didn’t start chugging. One second it was running, the next it wasn’t. I managed to steer it onto the shoulder, but I can’t start it up again. I called a tow-truck company, except the guy said they’re backed up and can’t come get me for another four hours.”
“Why don’t I take a look and see if it’s an easy fix,” he offered.
Gratitude filled her expression. “Thank you. I really mean that. I’ve been standing out here for nearly two hours waiting for that stupid tow. I was considering walking the fifteen miles to the service station when you came along.” Her blue eyes widened. “Can you imagine someone with my complexion walking in this hot sun? I’d get third-degree burns!”
He chuckled. Yeah, she was very fair. Her skin looked like porcelain, except for those cute reddish-brown freckles. His groin stirred at the sight, reminding him of the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in…how long had it even been? Four months? Six?
Eight, his libido reminded him, accusatory as hell.