surprisingly large in the rearview mirror.
Chase lifted himself out of the seat to lean out the window, gazing ahead. The move put his butt right at eye level, so she couldn’t help looking—especially since his jeans were worn white at the seat in testament to the hard work that had built those flexing muscles. He shifted to look behind them, his biceps swelling to lift the weight of his broad shoulders. It was incredible to think that her geeky, gangly friend had turned into this—this stud. She could barely believe it was the same guy.
She eyed his slim hips and smiled. Yup, it was Chase. It said so on the back of his belt, in fancy letters tooled into the leather. He’d worn a belt like that all through school, apparently unaware that having his name emblazoned on his backside was hardly a fashion statement. Apparently, his sense of style hadn’t grown with the rest of him.
So maybe he really hadn’t changed that much. Maybe the old Chase was still in there somewhere.
He pitched back into the seat, then opened the door and climbed down from the high cab.
Lacey set her hand on the gear shift, ready for action. “You going to push?”
“I’m going to drive.” He edged around the front of the truck, balancing on the rocks that jutted out of the flowing water. In moments he was at her window, gesturing for her to open the door. She opened the window instead.
“I think I can make it if you push,” she said.
He gave her a deadpan look, then headed for the back of the truck. She watched in the rearview as he set both hands on the tailgate and braced himself against the boulder. Focusing on the rocky path ahead, she set both hands on the wheel and bit her lower lip until it hurt. Don’t gun it . Take it easy.
“Don’t gun it,” he said.
“I know .”
She gripped the wheel and eased up on the clutch, watching Chase in the rearview mirror. His face was set in concentration, his jaw jutting forward. As their eyes met in the mirror, she finally recognized the Chase Caldwell she’d known—the old friend she’d come here to find. The jolt of recognition brought all her old feelings for him back—friendship, caring, and most of all, trust. She had always trusted him.
And looking into those brown eyes, she knew she still could. He might be angry, he might be difficult, he might have changed in a million ways. But the sign at the dealership hadn’t lied.
You could depend on Chase Caldwell.
She smiled, and he looked away, giving her a sharp nod and cutting the moment off as abruptly as an ax splitting wood. She eased up on the clutch a little more, simultaneously pressing the accelerator, then jammed on the brake as the truck lurched backward.
Chase disappeared from the mirror, and all she could see was trees and rock.
Damn. Just when she’d figured out she could trust him, she’d gone and killed the guy.
His face suddenly popped back into view in the mirror. She didn’t want to meet his eyes now. He looked furious.
“Go forward! Forward! You’re in reverse, Lacey!”
“Sorry.” She shoved the stick into first and tried again, but she caught his eyes and the anger in his gaze made her panic. She gunned it. The tires spun and mud flew, spattering his face and chest. He put his head down and pushed anyway, his arms straightening as the truck inched forward. She held her breath and gave it a little gas.
The engine died. The truck lurched backward again, and she looked in the mirror to catch a look of horror on Chase’s face before he dropped from sight again.
When he reappeared at her window, she thought maybe she should run over him in self-defense, because he looked mad enough to kill her . Maybe she should make a preemptive strike.
Or maybe it was time to get the peace process under way.
“Sorry.” She smiled hesitantly. “I think we’re stuck.”
“ You’re stuck,” he said. “ I’ll get us out of here. Move over.”
She started to protest, then sighed and did as he said.
Chase lifted himself out of the seat to lean out the window, gazing ahead. The move put his butt right at eye level, so she couldn’t help looking—especially since his jeans were worn white at the seat in testament to the hard work that had built those flexing muscles. He shifted to look behind them, his biceps swelling to lift the weight of his broad shoulders. It was incredible to think that her geeky, gangly friend had turned into this—this stud. She could barely believe it was the same guy.
She eyed his slim hips and smiled. Yup, it was Chase. It said so on the back of his belt, in fancy letters tooled into the leather. He’d worn a belt like that all through school, apparently unaware that having his name emblazoned on his backside was hardly a fashion statement. Apparently, his sense of style hadn’t grown with the rest of him.
So maybe he really hadn’t changed that much. Maybe the old Chase was still in there somewhere.
He pitched back into the seat, then opened the door and climbed down from the high cab.
Lacey set her hand on the gear shift, ready for action. “You going to push?”
“I’m going to drive.” He edged around the front of the truck, balancing on the rocks that jutted out of the flowing water. In moments he was at her window, gesturing for her to open the door. She opened the window instead.
“I think I can make it if you push,” she said.
He gave her a deadpan look, then headed for the back of the truck. She watched in the rearview as he set both hands on the tailgate and braced himself against the boulder. Focusing on the rocky path ahead, she set both hands on the wheel and bit her lower lip until it hurt. Don’t gun it . Take it easy.
“Don’t gun it,” he said.
“I know .”
She gripped the wheel and eased up on the clutch, watching Chase in the rearview mirror. His face was set in concentration, his jaw jutting forward. As their eyes met in the mirror, she finally recognized the Chase Caldwell she’d known—the old friend she’d come here to find. The jolt of recognition brought all her old feelings for him back—friendship, caring, and most of all, trust. She had always trusted him.
And looking into those brown eyes, she knew she still could. He might be angry, he might be difficult, he might have changed in a million ways. But the sign at the dealership hadn’t lied.
You could depend on Chase Caldwell.
She smiled, and he looked away, giving her a sharp nod and cutting the moment off as abruptly as an ax splitting wood. She eased up on the clutch a little more, simultaneously pressing the accelerator, then jammed on the brake as the truck lurched backward.
Chase disappeared from the mirror, and all she could see was trees and rock.
Damn. Just when she’d figured out she could trust him, she’d gone and killed the guy.
His face suddenly popped back into view in the mirror. She didn’t want to meet his eyes now. He looked furious.
“Go forward! Forward! You’re in reverse, Lacey!”
“Sorry.” She shoved the stick into first and tried again, but she caught his eyes and the anger in his gaze made her panic. She gunned it. The tires spun and mud flew, spattering his face and chest. He put his head down and pushed anyway, his arms straightening as the truck inched forward. She held her breath and gave it a little gas.
The engine died. The truck lurched backward again, and she looked in the mirror to catch a look of horror on Chase’s face before he dropped from sight again.
When he reappeared at her window, she thought maybe she should run over him in self-defense, because he looked mad enough to kill her . Maybe she should make a preemptive strike.
Or maybe it was time to get the peace process under way.
“Sorry.” She smiled hesitantly. “I think we’re stuck.”
“ You’re stuck,” he said. “ I’ll get us out of here. Move over.”
She started to protest, then sighed and did as he said.
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