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“Out of towners have a tendency to get stuck in the mud around here after it rains. Using these things saves us both a lot of time and hassle.”
“You charge them?”
“No.”
“They tip you?”
“No.”
“So…you do it because you’re a good Samaritan?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then why?”
“Because the sooner they get the fuck out of my town, the sooner I can go back to working on shit I actually give a fuck about.”
Once more the younger woman – who’s probably at least ten years younger than me and probably five older than The Kid – catches me off guard. Not only does she smile, it’s genuine.
Not polite.
She shows just enough teeth so that it’s clear they’re all there yet not wide enough to give me a good glance at the piece of jewelry I know is in her tongue.
Been a long time since I’ve seen this much danger wrapped in something this delicious…
It’d be best for us both to get her the hell out of here as quickly and as quietly as fucking possible.
I clear my throat and resume the line of questioning to make that happen. “How long you been stuck?”
“Never said I was stuck.”
“I just assumed.”
“Not a smart thing to do.”
“You mean like you who just assumed I was here to rape, rob, or murder you?”
“In that order.”
The urge to smirk tugs at the corner of my lips prompting me to shake my head in order to resist it. “What’s the problem?”
“My car stopped.”
“What do you mean it stopped?”
“I mean it was driving before, and now, it’s not.”
Sass.
The type that makes my palm itch and my dick twitch.
The same type of shit that The Kid gives me.
That I can’t act on.
Don’t act on.
Will never act on.
