Crawley Creek Bundle 1 by Lori King

Author:Lori King [King, Lori]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lori King

Chapter 2

“Oh snot.”

Horror washed over Roman when he twisted around to find a woman standing just inches from the tailgate of his truck. Thankfully, she looked unharmed, but she also looked pissed off. By the time he’d thrown the door open to get out, she’d darted around the truck and was in his face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You just ran over my bike!” she yelled, slamming her palm against his chest and knocking him off balance as he tried to stand up. He landed on his ass on the seat with his legs spread off kilter, and her right between his knees glaring daggers at him from her cobalt blue eyes. Rich, brown hair was tied back in a messy braid, and a pair of aviator sunglasses sat on top of her head, but it wasn’t her shades that drew his attention. It was her fury, and the frustrated anguish that filled her curses. “God damn it! Why the hell weren’t you...how the hell did you...damn it!”

Lifting his hands in an attempt to calm her, he murmured, “Easy there, sweetheart—”

“Don’t start that country boy charm shit with me, bucko. I’m not buying it. You just wrecked my bike, and you’re going to pay for the damages,” she snapped, poking her finger into his chest. Standing in front of her now, the size difference between them was more obvious. At just over six feet, Roman was fairly average height in this part of the country, but this little biker chick was more than a half foot shorter than he was, and based on the way her jeans and t-shirt clung to her body she was perfectly molded underneath.

“I’m not arguing that a bit, Miss...” he paused hoping she’d fill in the blanks, but she just spun on her heel and headed back to where her bike was still stuck under the back end of the truck.

Dropping to her knees, she ran her hand over the handlebars which were now slightly twisted. “Oh Hal, my poor baby. Damn country folks don’t even know how to drive in an empty parking lot. I can’t believe with all of this space around him he couldn’t even manage to...damn it all to fuck.”

Well she certainly has a colorful vocabulary, he thought, and an oddly personal relationship with her motorcycle. The bike didn’t look terrible, but then again, it was hidden in the shadow of the truck. Reaching for his keys, he stepped closer to her, and said, “If you’ll just scoot over some, I’ll pull forward and we’ll see what the damage is. I’m awfully sorry about running over your bike, but—”

“But what? But it was somehow my fault that you backed over the one and only vehicle besides yours in the whole parking lot?” she demanded.

Damn she was a squirrelly one. There was something about the fire in her eyes and her fierce temper that clashed with the frustration and sorrow in the slump of her shoulders. She was more than just angry over the accident.

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