Page 24 of With This Ring
What were the chances her ex-fiancé would be staying at the house next door? And that he was the owner of that impressive SUV? Coupled with his upscale black credit card, it looked like Hudson had achieved his dream of making a lot of money.
Well, good for him.
Her nostrils flared.
Hudson pointed to the car. “You have a flat tire.”
“Thanks, Hud, but I already figured that out on my own.” She lifted the tire iron.
He took a step toward her. “Need some help?”
“Nope. This isn’t my first flat.”
He gestured toward her. “You’re not exactly dressed for the task.” He brushed his hands down his black hoodie and faded jeans—which fit him oh so well. “Let me do it for you.”
“No, thanks. I’m sure you have more important things to do today.” She shooed him away with her hand. But despite her brush-off, he was beside her in a few long strides. She shot him another dark look. “I don’t need your help, Hudson.”
He shook his head. “Some things never change.”
“What’sthatsupposed to mean?” she demanded.
“Stubborn as always.” He held out his hand. “Give me the tire iron, Dakota.”
She huffed a breath and for a moment considered telling him off. But she was running out of time. If she was late for her appointment, she could lose this customer—and as much as she didn’t want Hudson’s help, he could change the tire faster than she could. After all, last time she’d changed her own tire, she’d spent a lot of time fighting with the lug nuts. Plus, if she smudged grease on her suit, she’d have to change her clothes—which would no doubt make her late.
Her shoulders slumped as she handed over the tire iron. “Fine.”
Squatting down, he slipped the tire iron onto the first lug nut and spun it as if the lug nut had never been tightened. As he loosened the remaining lug nuts, she folded her arms over her middle and observed the muscles in his shoulders flexing under his hoodie.
Hudson stood up to his full height and pushed a hand throughhis short dark hair. Then he scooted around the car, returned with the scissor jack, and quickly lifted the car. After removing the flat tire, he slipped on the spare and replaced the lug nuts.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked, tightening everything into place.
“A little over a year.”
He lowered the car and shielded his eyes from the sun. “What’s your cat’s name?”
Had he been spying on her? “How’d you know I have a cat?”
He pointed to the window. “I think that’s his favorite place to sit. He was there when I got home last night and the night before.”
“Trouble.”
He rolled the flat tire toward her trunk. “What?”
“His name. It’s Trouble.”
Hudson actually smiled, and her stupid, traitorous heart skipped a beat.
He leaned the tire against the bumper and then loaded the scissor jack and the tire iron. “I’m sure the folks at Barton Automotive can fix the flat. I could even drop it off for you.”
“Why do you care?”
He sighed. “Do you need me to take the tire for you or not, Dakota?”
“Nope. I got it.”
“Fine.” He loaded the tire into her trunk, then reached around the flat and pulled out an old towel that must have fallen out of one of the donation bags. “Can I wipe my hands on this?”