HITTIN' IT (Excerpt Only)

Chapter Two

Roy was really starting to annoy me with that whole "Stoic Man" act. Soon as I found a garage to fix the van, I was out of here.

Gads, El Paso! It was so brown and taupe and dreary, the city bleeding into the surrounding landscape, letting the desert eat at it, suck it dry like a vampire. I shuddered, my fingers digging deeper in Scamp's fur.

"Can you-" I pointed to the fancy control panel on the dash, "-turn the air down?" The arctic blast made me want to curl up in a ball underneath about a dozen blankets.

Grunting, he turned the knob and the air slowed to a Nor' westerner.

It'd do.

I would have preferred the fresh air (even if it was hot as Jalapeño outside), but I was so grateful to have a ride I wasn't about to complain. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't had anything to eat since the vending machine donuts I'd grabbed early this morning. No wonder I'd passed out.

"You okay?"

"Just thinking about my poor van." And my poor savings.

"Maybe it's just a busted hose."

"Huh, more like a busted engine." I took another sip of my water, then let Scamp lick my wet fingers.

"You really think it's that bad?"

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded. "There's a garage." I sat up a little straighter and Scamp wiggled in my lap, scratching at the door. He wanted out as badly as I did.

"Sure that's the one you want?"

"I don't care as long as they can fix a Chevy van." Geez, I wasn't exactly in a position to be picky. My stomach was already in knots over the impending expense, one I couldn't avoid.

"All right." He flicked on his blinker and took the exit. He turned into the little all-purpose gas station (the kind you don't see much of anymore) and jerked to a stop next to the pump. It was a concrete oasis with peeling paint and repair prices painted on the window.

"Will you watch Scamp while I see about a tow?" I scooted the puppy off my lap, holding him in place as I slid out. The Texas heat engulfed me, mercilessly driving away the chill brought on by the SUV's air conditioner. It was an almost instantaneous combination of sweat and scorched skin.

Roy stared at me as if he wanted to say no, as if he'd like to push the dog and me into the gas station's parking lot and take off in a squeal of tires, never looking back. "Sure."

The aviator sunglasses and the bland expression he wore made him unreadable, but something about him made me shiver as I closed the door. Scamp whimpered, his eyes mournful and anxious through the tinted glass. "I'll be right back," I mouthed, lightly tapping the glass.

Inside, a window unit was blowing full tilt, pouring damp, dirty-smelling air into every corner of the empty room. Three chairs were carelessly positioned against one wall, a white counter smudged with grease-stains took up the other, and two metal stands held Thrifty Nickels and Greensheets. A rattling, gasping soda machine that looked almost as old as my van took up the remaining wall. The door to the garage opened with a squeal that made me cringe.

"Help you?"

"I broke down outside of town. Can you give me a tow?" And please, God, can it not cost too much? I sucked in my gut and gave him my best smile, hoping to win him over. "And take a look at my van."

Wiping his hands on a red rag, he looked me up and down, a slow grin crossing his sweaty, grease-encrusted face. He wasn't bad looking, but it had obviously been a while since he'd gotten intimate with the Irish Spring and Mister Razor. He shrugged and glanced over my shoulder toward Roy's SUV, then stuffed the battered rag into the back pocket of his overalls. "I'm alone today, and pretty backed up."