Falling for the Billionaire Rancher (Steamy Small Town Romances #9) - Marian Tee Page 0,4

and I perk up right away, relieved to hear him changing the subject just when I need him to.

"I can have it towed first thing tomorrow."

"That would be a huge help," I say right away.

"But in the meantime...if you've got somewhere to go, maybe I can give you a lift?"

THINGS MOVED PRETTY quickly after that, and before I know it I'm struggling to contain my breathless excitement while seated next to Aidan in the tight, dark quarters of his pick-up. The whole thing feels rather surreal, and my heart's pounding so hard I'm seriously worried it's about to burst out of my chest.

Distraction.

That's what I need a.s.a.p., but when I ask for his permission to play some music—-

"I'd rather talk to you," he murmurs, "if you don't mind." He slides a glance at me, asking, "Are you here for business or pleasure?"

I frown at him. "How do you know I'm not local?"

Wyoming Keanu smirks. "Anyone who doesn't know the difference between a snowstorm and a blizzard better not be local or he'd be dumber than a doornail."

I gape at him, torn between shock and laughter. "Did you just call me stupid?"

"Only if you're local."

I make a face, knowing he has me there.

"Well?"

"You already know I'm not local."

"And?"

I roll my eyes but answer him all the same. "Both, I guess?"

"You don't sound sure."

"Story of my life." The words are out before I can stop myself, and I can't help wincing at how terribly emo I sound. "Sorry. Ignore that, please—-"

"What are the other things you're unsure of?"

"I just asked you to ignore that," I exclaim.

"Ignoring things isn't one of my talents, I'm afraid."

"But rudeness is?"

"I prefer...roguish."

God, he's impossible, and even worse, I'm having a hard time keeping myself from smiling.

"It's always easier to talk to strangers," he says suddenly. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

I shake my head.

"It's true, though."

"Of course you'd say that."

"Come on," he says cajolingly. "What's there for you to lose?"

"A lot."

His brows shoot up, and I realize I've done it again. If there's anything I dread more than the C-word, then it's the E-word. There's nothing I find more appalling than being emo, but...isn't that the whole point of this trip as well?

Eat Pray Love is just one giant emo fest, and if I want to carve a path of self-discovery the way Julia Roberts did, then...

"I don't know what I want to do with my life," I blurt out.

"And you have a deadline for that?"

I expel a sound of frustration. "You know what I mean."

"And I think you also know what I mean," he says equably.

I suppose I do, but...it's different for him. One look at Wyoming Keanu, and I know he already has things figured out. He knows what he'll be doing until his 101st birthday, and while I'm happy for him, that just makes me feel like I suck even more. I don't even know what I'm going to do in the next hour—-

"Do you know Stan Lee?"

The question throws me for a loop, and I look at him, confused. "Not personally, no, but I know of him."

"Then there you go."

"I'm sorry, but you've totally lost me."

"Stan Lee was in his late thirties when he hit it big with Fantastic Four."

Hearing Wyoming Keanu use a Marvel analogy is just so unexpected I find myself fighting off another smile.

"And Vera Wang—-"

I can't help laughing now. "Seriously?"

"I'm not making any of this up—-"

"I k-know you're not, b-but..." I try to finish, but I'm laughing too hard to be coherent. This really isn't good, but I just can't help it. Wyoming Keanu almost seems to have a secret key to my funny bone, and I need to clear my throat several times before I can finally start speaking again. "I'm sorry. "I just never expected a macho guy like you to even know who Vera Wang is."

A moment passes, and then he says, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For thinking I'm macho."

Oh my God, this guy is totally killing me with his lines, and that is so not good—-

"By the way..."

I stare at him warily, wondering if he's about to threaten my heart again with another killer line.

"You never told me your name."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank God. Something prosaic to talk about, finally, and I'm just so grateful I happily give my name up. "It's Raffi."

"Just Raffi?"

"Short for Serafina."

"Much better."

The words startle a smile out of me. "That's kinda telling, don't you think?" I shift in my seat to look at Wyoming Keanu, thinking I'd tease