"The kind that comes from casinos, wedding chapels, and a bunch of rowdy firefighters all coexisting in one small town."
I studied his profile, trying to read his motivations. "What's in it for you?"
Griffin was quiet for a moment. "Maybe I'm curious to see how this plays out."
"How what plays out?"
"Whether the wine expert can survive a few days in the real world without her color-coded itinerary."
Heat flashed through me again. If he only knew. "Wine expert?"
"You said you know the industry."
"I meant the survival part."
"Oh." That crooked grin appeared again. "Maybe I just want to see if you're as tough as you act."
The challenge in his voice sent electricity down my spine. "I'm tougher."
"Prove it."
"Fine." I settled back in my seat, meeting his gaze straight on. "Take me to your cute little town, then drive me to Oakcrest Bay. But I'm warning you—I don't suffer fools, I don't do small talk about the weather, and I absolutely do not do damsel in distress."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good." I crossed my arms and stared out at the landscape rolling by. "This should be interesting."
"Yeah," Griffin said, chuckling. "It should be."
Chapter Two
Griffin
I wasn't typically a sucker for a damsel in distress. In fact, I'd made it a point to avoid other people's problems whenever possible. Life was simpler that way—focus on the job, take care of my crew, and keep emotional entanglements to a minimum. It had worked well for me so far.
So why the hell was Lila King sitting in my passenger seat, looking like she was plotting my murder with every mile marker we passed?
She'd been scrolling through her phone for the past twenty minutes, probably calculating exactly how much this detour was costing her perfectly planned life. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.
"You know," I said, breaking the silence, "your car would've died whether I came along or not."
Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?"
"You're sitting there looking like I personally sabotaged your engine." I kept my eyes on the road, but I could feel her glare boring into the side of my head. "Just saying, this isn't actually my fault."
"I never said it was."
"You didn't have to. Your face did all the talking."
She huffed and turned to look out the window. "I don't like unexpected complications."
"Life is an unexpected complication, princess."
"Don't call me princess."
I bit back a smile. Getting under her skin was surprisingly satisfying. "Just making conversation."
The desert stretched endlessly on either side of us, heat waves shimmering off the asphalt. My truck's AC was working overtime, but I'd always found something oddly comforting about the stark landscape. No pretense, no bullshit—just survival in its purest form. Nature didn't care about your plans or your feelings. It just was.
