“Well, that would seem to be the case.”

“That it’s payback?”

“No, that you’re a bitch.”

“Very funny.”

“You know what’s even better than payback?” he asked leaning into the window, his cologne intoxicating me.

“What?”

He wiggled his brows. “Karma.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come around and have a look at the back of your Beemer.”

BEE-MA.

I got out and walked around to the back of my car to find my right rear tire was completely flat.

What? This cannot be happening.

With my hand on my forehead, I looked over at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? Did you know my tire was flat all this time?”

“I noticed it right around the time I caught you popping chicken and laughing at me, yes. It was real hard for me to keep a straight face at that point.”

I didn’t know how to change a tire to save my life. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask of him.

“Do you know how to change a tire?”

“Of course I do. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t know how to change a tire?”

“Will you help me? I know you have no reason to want to…after our little altercation, but I’m seriously desperate. I don’t want to be stuck out here all alone at night.”

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Okay…”

He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “How badly do you want your tire changed?”

I backed away from him. “What exactly are you getting at?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart. I’m not fucking propositioning you if that’s what you think. You’re not my type.”

“And what exactly is your type?”

“I typically go for women who don’t have the personality of a door knob.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

“So, what are your conditions?”

“Well, as you clearly know from your laughing fit, my Harley is experiencing a technical malfunction at the moment. It needs a part that I don’t have. I just called a tow company. But I’m on a deadline, and like you, I need to get to California.”

“You’re not suggesting…”

“Yes. Yes, I am. If I change your tire, you let me ride with you.”

“Ride with me?”

“Ride me, yes.”

“What did you just say?”

“You’re hearing things.”

I shook my head to rid the images now flashing through it. Did my tired mind only imagine that he just said that, or was he messing with me?

“I cannot drive hundreds of miles with a total stranger,” I said.

“It’s a fuck of a lot safer than driving alone.”

“Not if you’re a serial killer!”

“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who decapitated a U.S. president.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was seriously insane.

“Holy shit, Princess, is that a laugh at your own expense, I see?”

“I think you’re making me delirious.”

He stuck out his hand. “So, you in?”

I crossed my arms instead of taking it. “What choice do I have?”

“Well, you could always have him change your tire.” He gestured to a large and scary-looking man who seemed to be watching us. This guy looked like Herman Munster in the flesh.

Letting out a deep breath, I conceded. “I’m in. I’m in! Just get me out of here.”

“I thought you might say that. Please tell me you have a spare.”

“Yeah. But I have to move some of my boxes so you can get to it.”

He started to crack up when he got a load of the situation inside my trunk. “Damn, what the hell is all this crap?”

I looked into his eyes and answered honestly, “My entire life.”

I temporarily piled the contents of the trunk onto the pavement. He got the spare out and immediately got to work.

As he was changing the tire, his white t-shirt rode up, exposing his tanned, rock-hard abs and a thin trail of hair that ran into his underwear line. Unwanted tension built between my legs. I needed a distraction, so I walked over to his bike and sat on it, gripping the handles and imagining what it would be like to ride in the wind. But all I could envision now was him in front of me, and that wasn’t helping.

He slid his body from under my car. “Be careful, little girl. That’s not a toy.”

I hopped off and ran my finger along the letters emblazoned on the saddlebags. “What’s C.B. stand for anyway?”

“Those are my initials.”

“Let me guess…Cocky Bastard?”

“See…I would have told you my name, but since you’re so clever, I think I’ll just let you guess.”

“Whatever, Cocky.”

He lay back down on the ground. “I’m just tightening up these nuts, and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Nuts?”

“Lug nuts…on the wheel, dirty girl.”

“Oh.”

Hopping up, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe his forehead. “All set.”

Damn.

“That was quick. Are you sure it’s on right?”

“I’ve got a few screws loose, darling, as you’ll soon find out, but none of them are on your wheel.” He winked and for the first time, I noticed his dimples. “We should probably stop tomorrow and get a new tire put on. This spare is really not meant for long term use.”

Tomorrow. Wow. This was really happening.

“We should get going,” I said. “I’ll drive. I need to be in control of this situation.”

“Whatever you want,” he said.

I could feel the tension in my neck as I backed out of the spot. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. He wasted no time digging into my chicken bites.

I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey, lay off my food.”

“Honey mustard? I prefer barbecue.” He licked his thumb, and I swore at myself for getting turned on a little. This was going to be a long ride.

He smirked and lifted the plastic bag from the souvenir shop. “Did you even open it?”

“No. What’s the point? It’s just a broken bobblehead.”

Handing it to me, he said, “Is it?”

With one hand on the steering wheel, I took out the bobblehead which was…in one piece.

“What the…how did you?”

“You seemed to like it, so I paid for the other and bought you a different one. You were too busy looking through your purse to notice.”

I couldn’t help but smile and shook my head.

“Well, whaddya know. A genuine smile.” He held out his hand. “Here…gimme.” When, I handed it to him, he took an adhesive strip off the bottom and stuck it to the dash. Obama’s head was now bopping up and down with every movement of the car.

I broke out in laughter at the ridiculousness but also couldn’t help the warm feeling that came over me with that sweet gesture. Maybe he wasn’t really a bastard at all.

We were quiet for a while as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. Somewhere along I-76 after the sun set into a bright orange glow that illuminated the horizon in the distance, he turned to me.