Sweet Mercy - Lynn Hagen Page 0,1
crumpled with relief. “I got a flat tire. Can you drive down Route 10 and change it for me?”
What did Mercy know about cars? Not a dang thing. He didn’t even know how to change a tire. How pathetic was that? Toss him in a kitchen and he would shine. Hand him a tire iron and he was lost.
“How many times did I tell you to have that tire replaced?” Lincoln sighed. “Okay, help is on the way. Are you out of traffic?”
Mercy looked up and down the road. Not a single vehicle was in sight, though he saw some buzzards circling overhead some distance away. “It’s getting congested out here, but I think I can manage not to get run over.”
Just as long as those buzzards stayed where they were. If they started circling over his head, Mercy was making a run for it.
“Okay, just sit tight. Let me make a call.” Lincoln hung up.
Why did he have to make a call? Wasn’t he coming himself? He would probably send Brett.
Mercy tucked his phone into his pocket and leaned against the back of his Jeep. He would’ve walked back to the ranch, but he’d already driven a mile, and in this heat, he would turn into a pile of goo before he even got home.
Ten minutes passed before he spotted a truck heading toward him. Mercy didn’t recognize it, so he went back to staring at the buzzards. If Brett didn’t get there soon, they would be circling over him. God, it was hot.
Sweat was already trickling down his face and back. Fanning himself was a joke, and now he was thirsty.
The maroon truck pulled over to the side of the road. Mercy’s head shot up as he squinted, and then his eyes rounded.
Lincoln had sent the new guy. Mr. Sexy. Mercy was going to kill his stepbrother in his sleep for this!
The hunk got out of his truck and sauntered Mercy’s way. As soon as he was close enough, he stuck out his hand. “You must be Mercy. I’m Ford.”
Ford. The same name as the truck he was driving. He was all muscles and cuteness, and Mercy wanted to swoon over him. And Ford had green eyes. Now Mercy knew the color of them. “Yep. I’m Mercy. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
“Not a problem. I’ll just put your spare on, and you’ll be as good as—”
Ford’s hand tightened around Mercy’s as he cocked his head to the side and stared at him as if he’d never seen another human being.
Ford cleared his throat and shook his head. “Let’s get that tire changed.”
Mercy couldn’t help but notice how strangely Ford kept looking at him as he went for the spare mounted on the back of the Jeep. He opened the casing over the spare and frowned.
“Where’s the tire?”
“I don’t know.” Mercy moved closer and looked into the empty casing.
Ford walked around the Jeep, inspecting the tires. He stopped at the flat one and put his hands on his hips. “You’re already using it.”
“Oh that’s right.” Mercy gave a tight laugh. How had he forgotten that he’d had it changed a week ago in town? He’d had a flat then, and Fire Chief Dalton Knowles had changed it for him. The original tire was still in the backseat, waiting to get repaired or replaced.
“Let me call Brett and see what he wants me to do.” Ford slid his phone from his back pocket and walked toward his truck while Mercy stood there feeling like a complete idiot.
He was also staring at Ford’s butt. And what a nice, rounded butt he had. Mercy had an insane urge to run over to the guy and squeeze his rounded globes.
Mercy quickly looked away when Ford turned and faced him, placing his phone back into his pocket. The guy was returning to him.
“Looks like I’m helping you for a while.” Ford smiled, and Mercy melted under its beauty. Or it could’ve been the heat frying his brain.
Ford opened the door and pulled out the tire from the backseat and then tossed it into the bed of his truck. Next he jacked up the Jeep and removed the busted spare. He also tossed that in the back.
“Lincoln said to use the business credit card to pay for the repairs.” Ford swept a hand toward the passenger side. “Hop in.”
Mercy wasn’t looking forward to the close confines of the truck, but he had no other choice, unless he wanted to walk and have the