She couldn’t believe her luck—not only had someone actually stopped to help her out, but said stopper happened to be the hottest man on the planet. Other women might turn their noses up at his appearance, but Mari had always been drawn to the scruffy type. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she stared at Austin Bishop’s stubble-covered face and messy dark hair, and then her heart stopped beating altogether as her gaze slid down his impressive body. He wore a Denver Broncos T-shirt that looked like it had gone through the wash a hundred thousand times, but the thin material only made it easier to discern the rippled awesomeness of his muscular chest. Faded denim jeans encased his long legs, and his tan-colored boots were scuffed-up and lightly spattered with mud.
She wondered if he worked on a farm, but he didn’t give off a farm-boy vibe. Wasn’t a cowboy either, since no self-respecting cowboy left the house without a Stetson on his head. The shiny silver SUV he was driving told her he wasn’t an unemployed shmuck like her, but his lean body and bad-boy stubble made it difficult to hazard a guess about what he did for work.
Not that it mattered—she didn’t care what a man did for a living as long as it made him happy. Happiness was super important, in Mari’s opinion. Which was precisely why she’d chosen to move back home instead of settling for some random job she wasn’t passionate about. She was an artist, damn it! With a teaching degree, to boot. She refused to work as a cashier or a waitress or any of the other positions she’d seen advertised in the want ads. Thanks to layoffs, she was no longer employed as an art teacher, but she was certain she’d find something in Des Moines. She already had two interviews lined up, one in the public school system, the other with a private school.
But God, moving back home? She was so not looking forward to that. She loved her parents dearly, but living under their roof again would be pure torture.
“Okay, I guess not then…”
The teasing male voice broke through Mari’s thoughts, and she found Austin grinning at her. Man, he had a sexy grin. And a dimple in his chin. She was such a sucker for dimples.
“Sorry, what did you say?” she asked.
“I said I’d be happy to take you to the next service station, but wouldn’t you rather get dropped off at a bus terminal? Or the airport?”
She pondered the question. “A bus terminal would be great,” she admitted. “Like I said, I’m in absolutely no hurry to get to Des Moines.”
Austin gazed at her in sympathy. “You don’t get along with your folks?”
Mari sighed. “No, I do. It’s just…they’re so…conservative. They’re all about rules and expectations and doing everything in a particular way, whereas I’m more of a free spirit, I guess. I’m kind of the odd one out in my family. I’ve never totally fit in with them.”
“I know what you mean.” With a faraway look, he raked a hand through his hair, drawing Mari’s attention to his perfectly defined biceps. Then he snapped out of whatever reverie he’d gotten lost in. “Shit, we got off topic again. So, the bus terminal? Let me check my phone and Google where the nearest station is.”
“You sure you don’t mind giving me a ride? I could always wait around for the tow-truck dude.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Was that a flash of heat?
Mari’s cheeks warmed. Nah, she was imagining it. He definitely hadn’t looked aroused by the word ride.
She was, though. Uh-huh, she was certainly aroused. Her nipples strained beneath her bra, and her core clenched as she met Austin’s moss-green eyes. She’d never met anyone with eyes that shade of green. Dark and earthy and utterly hypnotic.
“I don’t mind at all,” he said slowly.
Their gazes connected. Mari’s cheeks scorched even more.
She forced herself to break the eye contact. “Let me grab my stuff then. I’ll call the tow company on the way and tell them to take the lemon straight to the junkyard instead of a garage.”
“Good plan.”
It didn’t take long to empty out the Toyota—she’d only brought a small duffel and a backpack for the five-hour drive, and the rest of her belongings were being shipped from Chicago. As she followed Austin toward his SUV, she rummaged around in the front pocket of her backpack until she found her phone.
“Mind posing for a picture?” she asked her dark-haired hottie.
As he stopped to look at her, she raised the phone and snapped a shot of his perplexed face before he could respond, which brought another grin to his lips.
“Um. Okay. Didn’t realize this was a Kodak moment.”
“It’s just in case you murder me,” she said frankly, before sweeping her fingers over the touch screen of her phone. “I’m emailing your name and photo to my folks. So if I turn up dead, they’ll know who did it.”
Rather than look insulted, Austin threw his head back and laughed. The deep rumble of a sound was so sexy her pulse sped up again.
“Want to take a picture of my license too?” he offered. “That way they can also have my address and measurements?”
She was about to roll her eyes in response, but her jaw fell open as she watched Austin reach into his back pocket for a brown leather wallet. To her shock, he handed her his driver’s license and urged her to photograph it. Which she did, because hey, stranger danger was real, even if that stranger happened to be a sex god.
She emailed her dad again, then put away the phone and glanced up to find Austin nodding his approval. For some silly reason, it pleased her that he hadn’t balked at the precautions she’d taken.