Her lips quirk up in a half-smile.“Oh, like Madonna?You only have one name?”
The corner of my mouth twitches before a bark of laughter escapes me, echoing louder than I intended in the still night air.The sound feels strange, almost foreign, but a surprising warmth spreads through my chest.“Something like that,” I say, shaking my head.
Hannah turns to look at her car, her brows knitting together.“I came around the corner and lost control.I guess I was driving too fast on these roads.”
“And in the wrong type of car,” I add, eyeing the Mini skeptically.
Her head snaps back to me, a little defensive now.“What’s wrong with my car?”
I let out a low chuckle.“Nothing if you’re sticking to paved roads in the lower forty-eight.But out here?”I gesture to the muddy path stretching behind us.“That thing’s a glorified toy.You’re lucky you didn’t roll it.”
Hannah crosses her arms, a spark of defiance lighting her eyes.“It’s fuel efficient,” she argues as if that’s going to win her points in the middle of nowhere.
“Not gonna help you much if it’s stuck in a ditch, is it?”I fire back, grabbing the chains again and heading toward her car.
“Do you need help?”
Grinning, I shake my head.“No.”
It takes me no time to hook her car up and pull it out of the ditch.The Mini looks even more out of place under the glare of my truck’s rear spotlights, its glossy paint smeared with mud.As I work, Hannah watches me intently, like I’m performing some magic trick.Every time I glance her way, she flashes me a smile, bright, unguarded, and completely oblivious to the danger of standing out here in the dark.The woman clearly has no sense of self-preservation.
“How about you jump in my truck, and I’ll tow you into town?”I offer, brushing mud off my gloves as I straighten up.
She practically bounces on the balls of her feet, her excitement catching me off-guard.“Thank you!I’m still trying to get my bearings around here.Things are still feeling new.I’ve only been in town a few weeks.My home is over in the Bear Ridge Estate.”
Bear Ridge.That’s one of those cookie-cutter developments carved into the wilderness, where people from the lower forty-eight think they can get a taste of Alaskan life without actually living it.Still, it’s better than her being stranded out here.
Nodding, I open the passenger door for her, the hinges creaking in the cold.“Hop in.”
She hesitates for half a second, as if she’s surprised by the gesture, then climbs up.I walk around to the driver’s side and slide into the cab, the truck groaning softly under the weight of the cold.
“What’s your street called?”I ask, starting the engine.
“Oh, you don’t have to take me home.You can just unhook me in town, and I can drive myself,” she says quickly, her hands twisting the ends of her scarf.
The warm feeling in my chest grows, unexpected and unwelcome.I shake my head, resting one hand on the steering wheel.“I’d feel better knowing you got home safe.”
Her expression softens, and for a moment, she looks almost vulnerable.“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice softer now.
I pull the truck onto the road, glancing over as she leans back in the seat, finally relaxing.The scent of her perfume is light and floral and fills the cab—a sharp contrast to the leather and motor oil I’m used to.
She looks out the window, her breath fogging the glass.“It’s so different here.I’ve never lived somewhere so...wild.”
I grunt in acknowledgment, keeping my eyes on the road.“It’s not for everyone.”
“Maybe not,” she murmurs, almost to herself.Then she glances at me, her smile returning softer this time.“But I think I’m going to like it.I live on Kodiak Circle.”
The drive into town takes about fifteen minutes, and it should only take another ten to get to her home.I’m concentrating on the roads, enjoying her company even though I’m not much of a talker.
“Have you lived here long?”she asks, breaking the silence.
I let out a quick breath, glancing at her quickly before focusing on the road again.“Five years,” I answer, my tone flat.
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s quiet,” I reply, my fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.“And there’s plenty of wilderness to get lost in,” I add, trying to end the conversation.
She doesn’t seem to notice my irritation as she presses on.“You’re in an MC?”
