The four-wheel drive truck pulled up behind her, and the driver's door opened. She couldn't see the occupant until he stood right in front of her, towering over her in the dim light. He was dressed in dusty work clothes and jeans, which sat snugly on broad hips. A thick cotton work shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows showed off strong, tanned arms. An old, worn hat was pushed down over short hair, hiding his face as he stood looking down at her.
“Are you okay?” His deep voice rolled over her, triggering something familiar deep in her brain.
“No, my car overheated, and now it won't start.” Libby sighed as she followed him to the front of the vehicle.
He shone a flashlight at the hood. “Release it and let me have a look.” He lifted the bonnet and stuck his head beneath. Muttering and cursing drifted back toward her ears. He slammed it back down and turned to her.
“You’ve got a broken radiator hose.” The top one has completely blown, and the bottom one is on its way out. Don't you check your car at all? It's a bloody mess under that hood.”
“My car runs fine normally.” Libby straightened her spine. So much for country charm; Mr. Personality, you aren't. “But thanks for looking at it anyway. I won't hold you up any longer.”
“Testy little thing, aren't you?” He pushed his hat back on his head as he came closer to her, his face barely visible in the fading light. “We don't leave women on the side of the road out in this country.”
Oh no! “What are you doing here?” Libby asked as she recognized the lawyer who had made such an impression on her at Aaron's.
“I live here. The question should be what're you doing here?” He walked away from her.
“I think you know the answer to that question. It's such a shame our first encounter is enough to upset you.” Libby kicked at the dirt, knowing her softly spoken words had gone unheard.
At least he's easy on the eyes; pity his attitude isn't as nice.
* * *
Leaning on the back of his dust-covered truck, Nathan pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and punched in a number. He glanced over at Libby pacing back and forth while he waited for someone to pick up.
He'd known she was due soon, but he didn't expect to meet her out on the highway, broken down.
“Tom, it's Nathan, I'm out on the side of the road at the highway end, just before the turnoff. I think I have something which belongs to you.” He grimaced as he looked back toward the women watching him. “You had better bring the truck out. Yeah, sure, I'll wait with her. Don't be too long. She's a little bit fiery. Sure, 'bye.”
“So...” He walked back to stand before Libby. His heart thumped, and a thin sheen of sweat beaded on his top lip and his face heated up as his gaze run over her body. From her pert nose to her long, slim bare legs. He noticed the blush on her cheeks while he scrutinized her under the flashlight beam. Damn you, Uncle Aaron. Cute and fiery. Too dangerous out here. If circumstances were different, or even another time and place, he could get attached to this woman—at least, physically. “You're the city chick who's going to take Quincy Station into the black, eh? I wonder if you know what you're taking on, sweetheart?”
“Don't you 'sweetheart' me, mate. It's Libby. Libby Holland, and yes, I am the city chick who's taking over my great-uncle's farm.” She glared at him in the torchlight.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
Damn. This woman is going to be a handful of fun and frustration. I don't know if I want to deal with her right now. Thanks again, Uncle Aaron.
* * *
Libby stood her ground as he glared back at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding the flashlight on her face. His lips pulled over even, white teeth as his gaze brazenly roamed up and down her body. Libby felt uncomfortable in the crumpled shirt, which had come out of her wrinkled shorts. Her sneakers were the old, comfy ones she wore to mow the lawn, stained and muddy. Strands of hair had fallen out of the knot she had put on the top of her head where her sunglasses were still perched. Libby tried to hook some of the stray bits behind her ear as he scrutinized her, and she could feel her face flaming.
“I think you will be the one with the problems, sweetheart, not me.” He moved closer, leaned over Libby, his hand resting on the roof of the car. When the back door opened, Holly crawled out with Henry snuggled tightly to her body. She was followed by Josh with his red-heeler pup tucked under his arm.
“Who are you?” Josh demanded, standing beside his mother.
“Nathan Miller.” The man stepped back a couple of paces. “Your neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.” Libby turned toward him, gritting her teeth and held her hand out.
“I'm not sure the feeling is mutual.” Before she could reply, lights shone on them, and another four-wheel drive pulled up beside Libby's car. The window rolled down, and an older man put his head out, tipping his hat in acknowledgement.
“Thanks, Nathan. Hi, missus, I'm Tom, your foreman.” The man held his leathery, work-hardened hand out the window for Libby to shake. “Sounds like you need a new car, way Nathan was talking.”
“Nothing I'm sure the local mechanic can't fix.” Libby clenched her jaw.
“I have my doubts.” He waved to Tom, and walked to his car leaving them standing there watching him.
“That was so bloody rude.” Libby tried to drag her gaze away from his retreating back. “Surely that's no way to greet a new neighbor.”
“Nope, that was just Nathan being Nathan.” Tom's voice was matter-of-fact as he got
