Page 5 of The Broken Hearts Club

I couldn’t help but think I was going to regret this.

2

Collie

Miller stood there staring at me like I was completely nuts. After a moment, he asked, “That’s everything you need? A toothbrush, some ramen, and a giant stuffed animal?”

“Pretty much.”

He indicated the ramen and asked, “Is that meant to be your dinner?”

“Yup. I bought two cases of it before I left home.”

“You don’t need that. I’m planning to order in, so I’ll get enough for both of us.”

“I’m on a tight budget, so I wouldn’t be able to pay you back.”

“It’s my treat.”

“Thanks, Miller. I’m going to owe you big time after this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He watched as I chucked the ramen packet back into the van, and then he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to bring anything else inside?”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting while I went through my stuff.”

“Take your time. I’m going to change, and then I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

He looked amazing in his deep indigo jeans and form-fitting white polo shirt. I wondered what he was changing into, and if I should change, too. Actually, now that I thought about it, I should really do more than that.

I asked him, “Would it be okay if I used your shower? I started my road trip yesterday and tried to wash up this morning in the bathroom sink at a campground near Reno, but⁠—”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Would you mind taking Hubert Humphrey inside for me? He’s pretty heavy.”

“Hubert…” I held up my alligator to show him what I meant, and he said, “Oh. Sure.”

With that, he grabbed the stuffed animal and headed for the door near the back of the garage, while I tilted my head and watched him walk away. He was really sexy. I’d thought that from the first moment I saw him. Before merging into my lane, he’d passed me in his cool, vintage, metallic blue convertible, while I completely gawked at him.

He’d looked like a movie star in his stylish sunglasses, with his short, dark hair shimmering in the sunlight. Not a single hair was out of place, even though he’d been driving with the top down. That had to be some kind of hot guy magic.

And then it turned out he was even sexier close up! He was tall and strikingly handsome, with a muscular build that made it obvious he worked out. Meanwhile, I was all of five-seven and built like Popeye’s girlfriend Olive Oyl. This guy was way out of my league, but I still had every intention of shooting my shot at some point.

All of a sudden, he turned back to me and said, “I have to ask. Hubert Humphrey, as in the former vice president under Lyndon B. Johnson?”

I tried to act casual, as if he hadn’t just caught me blatantly checking out his ass. “Exactly like that.”

“Why, though?”

“Why not?”

Miller started to say something, but then he changed his mind. He turned back to the door, typed in some numbers on a keypad, and went inside.

As soon as he was gone, I scrambled into the van and started digging through my wardrobe. It was all black. That was kind of my thing. Now that it was all stuffed into a random collection of totes, duffle bags, and suitcases, it was hard to tell what was what.

I held up a mesh T-shirt and contemplated it for a minute. This was something I’d worn when I went clubbing in Boise, and one of the few things I owned that might be considered sexy. Miller and I weren’t on a date, though. And since I was stuck here all weekend, I really shouldn’t fling myself at him first thing. If he shot me down, this might become super awkward.

I tossed that shirt aside and settled on a long-sleeved T-shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Because I was an optimist, I also selected a sexy pair of briefs. Just in case.