The scent of stale pizza and beer mingled with his body odor.
“Yeah, I’m Radford.”
“Great.” Eva pulled a pen from behind her ear and held it out. For good measure, she tossed in a smile. “Just need your John Hancock.”
Bruce studied the paper but in the fading light couldn’t possibly read the small print. “Must be the chick at Hanson Trucking. She’s got a thing for me.”
She edged the clipboard closer, obscuring the page with most of her hand. ‘Just sign here and I’ll be out of your hair. ”
Pursing his lips to hide a smile, Radford nodded. “Cool.”
Radford grabbed her outstretched pen and scrawled his name in a sloppy mixture of print and cursive that reminded her of a third grader. “Thanks.”
She shoved the flowers and tore off a copy of the delivery slip. “You have a nice night.”
Absently, he took the slip. “Sure.”
Eva moved toward her truck, praying the starter didn’t act up and wishing she’d had enough gas in the tank to keep the engine running. Just hustle across the yard and get behind the wheel before Bradford figures out what he’s really signed—an agreement to appear in court. When he figured out he’d been tricked, he’d be one pissed hombre.
Eva fished her keys out of her pocket, got in the truck and fumbled in the dim light for the ignition. A glance over her shoulder told her Radford hadn’t raised his gaze from the flowers, which he sniffed like a lovesick fool. He’d already forgotten about the delivery kid. Round one goes to Eva.
She cranked the engine.
Nothing. She tried the engine a second time. Still nothing. Crap. Another look at Radford had him studying the paper closely. The dumb schoolboy look morphed into confusion and then anger. “Hey, what the hell is this?”
Tension fisted in Eva’s gut. She cranked the engine. Nada.
What had her boss, King, said when he’d lent her the truck? Count to three and then try again. Shit. One. She glanced over at Radford who sprinted across the yard toward her truck. Two. He reached the street in seconds and thundered halfway across the street when she lost her nerve and turned the key.
Click. Click. Click.
No engine roared to life.
Normally, she’d get out and tighten a few wires and the problem would be solved, but if she got out now, Radford would likely beat her to a pulp.
With the paper balled in his fist, Radford shouted, “What the hell is this, bitch?”
She pulled in a deep breath. Shit. Shit. Shit. She locked the doors, wishing now she’d kept the engine running. Certainly, running out of gas a few miles from here would have been better than this mess.
Radford reached the door handle. Discovering it was locked he pounded his fist on the window. She jumped. Her hands sweated. Soon the battery would be dead.
He hit the window again, making it groan and flex under the assault. A couple more punches like that and it would shatter like a thin coating of ice.
“Bitch. Who the hell sent you?” he shouted. “That damn wife of mine sent you, didn’t she? I ain’t giving her a divorce. Greedy whore.”
Eva’s focus remained on the ignition. Her hands steadied and her mind became oddly clear. She didn’t bother with prayer, learning long ago that only she could solve her problems.
The fist smacked against the glass again and this time left a spiderweb of cracks. “I’m gonna pummel your bony ass. ”
Eva skipped counting to three and cranked the engine. This time the motor moaned and sputtered to life just as Radford hit the window a third time. Spiderweb cracks spiraled out from his fist, and if the glass had given way his fist would have landed on her jaw.
She shoved the gear into drive and punched the gas. Gravel sputtered under the back tires that struggled for traction.
Radford ran alongside, pounding metal with his fist. She gripped the wheel and held on tight. The truck picked up speed and Radford couldn’t keep pace. A grin tugged the corners of her lips.
Bruce yelled
“Yeah, I’m Radford.”
“Great.” Eva pulled a pen from behind her ear and held it out. For good measure, she tossed in a smile. “Just need your John Hancock.”
Bruce studied the paper but in the fading light couldn’t possibly read the small print. “Must be the chick at Hanson Trucking. She’s got a thing for me.”
She edged the clipboard closer, obscuring the page with most of her hand. ‘Just sign here and I’ll be out of your hair. ”
Pursing his lips to hide a smile, Radford nodded. “Cool.”
Radford grabbed her outstretched pen and scrawled his name in a sloppy mixture of print and cursive that reminded her of a third grader. “Thanks.”
She shoved the flowers and tore off a copy of the delivery slip. “You have a nice night.”
Absently, he took the slip. “Sure.”
Eva moved toward her truck, praying the starter didn’t act up and wishing she’d had enough gas in the tank to keep the engine running. Just hustle across the yard and get behind the wheel before Bradford figures out what he’s really signed—an agreement to appear in court. When he figured out he’d been tricked, he’d be one pissed hombre.
Eva fished her keys out of her pocket, got in the truck and fumbled in the dim light for the ignition. A glance over her shoulder told her Radford hadn’t raised his gaze from the flowers, which he sniffed like a lovesick fool. He’d already forgotten about the delivery kid. Round one goes to Eva.
She cranked the engine.
Nothing. She tried the engine a second time. Still nothing. Crap. Another look at Radford had him studying the paper closely. The dumb schoolboy look morphed into confusion and then anger. “Hey, what the hell is this?”
Tension fisted in Eva’s gut. She cranked the engine. Nada.
What had her boss, King, said when he’d lent her the truck? Count to three and then try again. Shit. One. She glanced over at Radford who sprinted across the yard toward her truck. Two. He reached the street in seconds and thundered halfway across the street when she lost her nerve and turned the key.
Click. Click. Click.
No engine roared to life.
Normally, she’d get out and tighten a few wires and the problem would be solved, but if she got out now, Radford would likely beat her to a pulp.
With the paper balled in his fist, Radford shouted, “What the hell is this, bitch?”
She pulled in a deep breath. Shit. Shit. Shit. She locked the doors, wishing now she’d kept the engine running. Certainly, running out of gas a few miles from here would have been better than this mess.
Radford reached the door handle. Discovering it was locked he pounded his fist on the window. She jumped. Her hands sweated. Soon the battery would be dead.
He hit the window again, making it groan and flex under the assault. A couple more punches like that and it would shatter like a thin coating of ice.
“Bitch. Who the hell sent you?” he shouted. “That damn wife of mine sent you, didn’t she? I ain’t giving her a divorce. Greedy whore.”
Eva’s focus remained on the ignition. Her hands steadied and her mind became oddly clear. She didn’t bother with prayer, learning long ago that only she could solve her problems.
The fist smacked against the glass again and this time left a spiderweb of cracks. “I’m gonna pummel your bony ass. ”
Eva skipped counting to three and cranked the engine. This time the motor moaned and sputtered to life just as Radford hit the window a third time. Spiderweb cracks spiraled out from his fist, and if the glass had given way his fist would have landed on her jaw.
She shoved the gear into drive and punched the gas. Gravel sputtered under the back tires that struggled for traction.
Radford ran alongside, pounding metal with his fist. She gripped the wheel and held on tight. The truck picked up speed and Radford couldn’t keep pace. A grin tugged the corners of her lips.
Bruce yelled