A Man to Believe In. Kathleen Pickering

      The passion in her statement hit him like a brick. Despite his and Gil’s pact, Peter had felt the urge to run away from home his entire life. He and Gil both had. Probably why they’d promised to watch each other’s backs. “What do you do for fun around here besides fish?”

      She shot him an amused look. “Other than plucking newcomers from ditches when they don’t heed the deer-crossing signs?”

      He laughed. “Very funny.” He didn’t need to remind her that he wouldn’t have had the accident if he hadn’t been so busy watching her in his mirror.

      Her smile seemed to light up the inside of the Jeep. “It’s pretty quiet around here. Only a few bars stay open late. If you want to party hard you’ll have to drive into East Hampton, then probably get a room. The police are pretty tough on drunk drivers.”

      “Do you have a big brother who keeps all the guys away from you?”

      She laughed. “Nope. Only child.”

      “Boyfriend?”

      They’d come to a red light. She took the opportunity to stare him down. “Nosy, aren’t you?”

      He grinned. “No. Interested.”

      Wow. She actually looked flustered for a moment before the light of challenge filled her eyes.

      “Okay, my turn. Siblings?”

      He’d play. “Yes, a brother. Older by eleven months.”

      “He still in California?”

      “Yes. He and his partner just married and moved to San Francisco.” He missed the guys already. “I’m happy for Gil. He and Rudy have been together for years.”

      She lifted a brow. “Maybe you can get them to move here. That way you’d have family nearby, too.”

      He’d thought of that on the drive across the country. Why couldn’t they all stay together? But he wouldn’t want Gil pressuring him to stay on the west coast. They had to honor each other’s choices. Besides, what if Montauk didn’t work for him? He’d hate to be responsible for dragging the guys all this way for nothing.

      Cassie pulled into the gas station. “Mother? Father?”

      “Not fair. Didn’t get to ask you that question yet.”

      “Hey. You were just bulldozing me with interrogation. Now you refuse to answer?”

      Peter spied his truck. What he saw of it seemed okay; he just had to see what the front end looked like. He opened the car door. “Didn’t say that...” He trailed off as he climbed out of the Jeep to inspect the damage to his truck. He’d rather not talk about his parents now. He’d enjoyed their light banter way too much to muddy the conversation.

      She followed him to his truck. “They say you can tell a person from the car they drive.”

      He laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them.”

      “What’s a them?”

      “You know. People match their pets. Couples start looking alike after years together, someone who categorizes everything.”

      She tapped a finger to her lips as she went from inspecting Peter to focusing on his truck. “Late model. White. Dirty from being on the road for days.” She looked through the closed passenger window. “Tan interior. Pristine. Hmm. Even professionally cleaned clothes on hangers in the back. And now, dented. Just like you.”

      She was so sexy teasing him. He had to stop himself from running his hands through her curling blond hair, pulling her face close and kissing her senseless. Man. Had the accident addled his brain?

      Cassie carried on, totally unaware of the effect she had on him. “So you’re tidy. You like comfortable things, prefer utility yet are not adverse to spending money on comfort.”

      Stepping away from her before he did something he’d regret, like touching her, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Focusing on his truck, he whistled softly as he looked at the front. Tufts of grass and dirt still stuck where the grille had broken. “I wonder if I can still drive it.”

      She stood next to him, and her powdery perfume filled his senses. He could definitely get used to her scent. In a huge way.

      “Let’s ask.” She glanced around. “Joe’s car is gone but there’s Mike.”

      Mike, wearing blue coveralls, was talking with two men. He looked over at them, and Cassie waved.

      “Hope he can talk with us,” he said. “I’d like to check into my place as soon as possible.”

      A line creased her brow. “You’re looking pale. Not feeling well, I take it?”

      He shrugged. “Between lack of food and my headache, I’d like to take it easy.”

      She prodded him back toward the Jeep. “Go sit. I’ll talk to Mike.”

      He continued to keep pace with her. “Absolutely not.”

      “What? You’re the type who won’t let someone else take care of them?”

      A blast of reality hit. He hadn’t thought of that but leave it to this fascinating woman to get right to the point. Truthfully, he’d taken care of himself for so long that he didn’t think to ask anyone for help. Peter’s creased brow pulled at his stitches. He consciously relaxed his face. “Guess I’d have to claim guilty on your observation.”

      “Well, you’ll have to work on that. We lean on each other pretty heavily at Mercy.”

      “Okay then, let’s start with food. I haven’t had a bite since dinner last night. Where can we get something quick to eat?”

      “I know a spot. Let’s see what Mike has to say first.”

      Mike shook hands with the customer he’d been talking to and headed toward them. One look at Peter and concern crossed Mike’s face. “You must be the owner of the truck.”

      “I’m Peter Chapman. Thanks for taking a look at it.”

      Mike turned to Cassie, and a grin tugged at his mouth. “Jack says the deer got away.”

      She grinned. “No free dinner for the locals. Sorry, Mike.”

      Peter looked from one to the other. “You would have eaten the deer?”

      Mike eyed him as if gauging how serious he was. “Hunting season isn’t until late fall. We appreciate the occasional venison dinner off-season, if we catch the kill fast enough.”

      A true nature boy, Peter winced. “That’s like eating Bambi.”

      Cassie and Mike exchanged glances as if to say they knew what kind of wuss this guy was. Mike said, “I guess you’ve never tasted venison.”

      He didn’t mind being the butt of their joke. And, no. He’d never eaten venison. He clapped Mike on the shoulder. “Give me a slab of beef anytime. So, how much damage did I do to the truck?”

      Mike had no trouble shifting gears. “The engine is okay. Bumper and grille will need replacing. One headlight and a radiator.” He looked toward the truck, frowning. “I’ll have to let you know. Do you have insurance?”

      “Yes. This sounds like a project.”

      “I’ll have to order parts. It’ll take a few days. Maybe a week or so.”

      Grounded. No wheels. It was a good thing he had six days until the first day of work. “When can you let me know the full extent of the damage?”

      “I’ll look at the truck next. Give me your number and insurance info. I’ll call with numbers by tomorrow, latest.”

      “That’ll work.” They followed Mike into the garage to give him Peter’s information.

      Cassie