Crashing Into Me (Crashing Into Me #1) Read online

  Are you OK, OMG, and Call me!

  She didn’t respond to any one of them. Instead, she focused on packing her warmest clothes and finally getting the chance to wear a pair of boots she bought few months ago. What people didn’t seem to understand was that she was over him, not necessarily what he had done. The fear of being broken in that way by another man was what kept her at bay when it came to dating, so she kept to herself. Shaking the thoughts from her head, Lana focused her eyes on the road and pressed on the accelerator a little harder. Flicking her eyes to the rearview mirror, she noticed a black sports car was approaching from behind at an alarming speed.

  It was the first car on the road with her for hours and it was flying like a bat out of hell. Lana held her breath in anticipation of a collision, and wondered if she should merge into the next lane. She shook the thought away, knowing the car would eventually go around her—why wouldn’t it?

  Stop being a freak. She furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated on the road ahead, and waited to see the car zip past her at any moment.

  There was loud music blaring from behind her truck so she knew the car was closing in. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she contemplated what to do next. Do I merge or…. But the person in the car was laying on the horn now, making her nerves unravel.

  “Why don't they just go around?” she asked out loud, as the car tail gated her. There are no other cars on the road besides us, so what’s this person’s problem?

  Lana pushed on the gas pedal a little harder to put some distance between them and turned her left blinker on. Once she could see the cars headlights again in the rearview, she returned her eyes back to the road.

  “Jerk,” she stated and started to merge into the left lane, when suddenly the car, a black Tesla, sped around her at a tight right curve in the road, way too close.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, as the car lurched inches next to her. Bracing herself, she squeezed her eyes closed and nudged the steering wheel to the right, hoping to avoid the collision. As she slammed the brakes, her truck fishtailed off the road and smashed into the guardrail. She opened her eyes and saw the sparks her truck and the metal rail made from the impact in her passenger side view mirror. Finally, it screeched to a halt.

  She panted uncontrollably as she gripped onto the steering wheel for dear life. The Tesla slowed down and pulled over in front of her, the person cutting the engine. Then the driver, a man, jumped out of the car. With her heart pounding out of her chest, she struggled to catch her breath as her body shook from the fright of the last few seconds. Her legs felt like jelly and her knees were knocking against each other.

  She released the steering wheel, laid her head against the headrest, and started taking slow deep breaths. She caught a glance of her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her caramel colored skin had lost some color and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She wiped her face with the cuff of her sweater, and the smell of the cherry scented car freshener helped to calm her. Lana closed her eyes to focus on slowing her heart rate.

  Deep breath through the nose, slowly out the mouth. The knock on her driver side window startled her and she jumped up when she saw the well-dressed man there, running his hands into his hair. He took a step back from the door and she slowly pushed it open and climbed out. As she stepped out into the cold air it was like having a plastic bag removed from her head.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, as he stepped towards her.

  Lana took a step back instinctively and glared up at him. He was towering over her; he had to be six three or four against her five six stature. His dark hair fell into his face and the sunglasses he wore hid his eyes. People who wore sunglasses made her uncomfortable—for one, she could never tell where their eyes were looking and two she couldn’t tell what they looked like.

  “I’m fine. My truck however is not,” she barked angrily. “Are you completely insane? Why are you driving like an idiot?”

  Lana stomped past him towards the side of her vehicle to inspect the carnage. Standing against the guardrail she placed her hand on it, leaned over and looked down the side of her truck. From what she could see, there was a long series of dents and deep scratches from the rear passenger side door all the way up to the front passenger side. The fact that the side-view mirror was still holding on was a miracle.

  “Great,” she stated sarcastically, and stomped back over to square off with the stranger.

  He had taken his shades off now and they revealed eyes so pale blue and piercing she forgot her initial thought to slap him. She could see his full face now and it was something to behold. High cheekbones, a strong chin, with a delicate but manly nose. He also had a five o’ clock shadow that made him look rugged and tough. Lana could tell he had a muscular build under the expensive leather jacket he wore and she was speechless for a moment. Wow; she thought to herself as she looked up at his distracting face.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention back there. Here, take my card,” he replied as he reached into his Armani pants and produced a leather wallet.

  He opened it, pulled out a business card, and handed it to her. As she reached for the card, her hand grazed his, sending a small bolt of electricity through her. What the hell was that? The wind started to pick up and he smelled of a heavenly men’s cologne which didn’t help her sudden lack of composure.

  “Give me a call and I’ll pay for all the damages.”

  She looked down at the card and back up to his concerned face. At least he seems apologetic, but it doesn’t excuse his behavior. She looked at the card—and the name Kayden Capshaw printed in embossed ink in fancy lettering jumped out. She looked at him and tried not to focus on the eyes again. She needed to stay focused and his were like kryptonite.

  “Why not give me your insurance information? Wouldn’t that be easier?” she asked.

  She almost wished he would put the sunglasses back on, as she felt silly having a conversation while trying not to look someone in the face. Instead of calling the police like she should, Lana found herself growing nervous and intimidated while he just stood there and looked at her. Usually, she would have ripped him a new one at this point but, she was entranced by him. He may have been the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. He certainly made Sam look like a gargoyle.

  “If you don’t believe me, just follow me to the next exit, and we can find a garage,” Kayden pleaded.

  She thought about it for a moment and it was a decent offer, but it would add way too much time to her trip.

  “I’ll agree if you can get me a rental so I can finish my drive. I have a long way to go and I can’t wait around for it to be fixed.”

  “Sure, that sounds great. Shall we then?”

  Instinctively, she looked into his eyes, saw his sincerity, and nodded her head in submission. A huge white smile spread across his face and it almost took her breath away. He was more than attractive, he had to be an actor or something—regular men did not look like that. Immediately, she felt embarrassed realizing she’d been staring instead of talking and quickly collected herself.

  “Fine,” she replied quickly, “you really need to chill with the fast and furious road antics. You could kill someone.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, his face serious.

  Other than the words between them, it was almost completely silent on the road. The sky was a deep cobalt blue with thick white clouds squeezing by one another. With the tall looming trees lining the road, it could have been an oil painting they were standing in, it looked so perfect. Everything was instantly too quiet and intimate, and very intense as they stood there sizing the other one up. Lana turned away slowly and reached for the trucks door.

  “I didn’t get your name,” Kayden continued, taking a step towards her, and Lana held her breath.

  Doesn’t this guy believe in personal space? She felt her stomach tighten being less than a couple feet away from him now, his smell assaulting her senses.

  “Lana,” she rep
lied quickly, and pulled the door open. She climbed into the SUV, slammed the door shut and hit the door lock. He chuckled at her and walked back to his car while she tried to catch her breath, for very different reasons this time. Lana watched him walk away, his stride containing a sense of pride and sophistication. He had to be someone important. She held her breath again, when he glanced back at her over his shoulder and smiled.

  ***

  As he turned away from her SUV, Kayden couldn’t help the smile that sprang on his face. She was beautiful and kind of shy, but he liked her stubbornness and the way she handled him. He wasn’t used to women speaking to him that way and he really liked it. He opened the door to his car and turned back to her, and smiled again. She was gorgeous, and he couldn’t help but steal a glimpse of her bending over the guardrail to check out her truck a few minutes earlier. The jeans she wore fit every curve in all the right places. He would definitely look forward to her call later, he thought as he jumped in the car and took off down the highway.

  ***

  Lana sat in the truck and watched as the Tesla sped away. He was driving way too fast for someone she was supposed to be following. She started the truck, pulled onto the roadway and hit the gas. He was running! She should’ve known better and called the police—it served her right.

  It didn’t take a genius to see that she reacted to him like a grade school crush and when he caught on, he played her like a fiddle. Lana slammed her hands down on the steering wheel as she accelerated towards the car from hell. As hard as she pressed the pedal, the aging Ford couldn’t catch up to the Tesla. As her truck went up a steep hill in the road and came back down, the Tesla was nowhere in sight.

  “Damn it!” she yelled, and took her foot off the gas, letting the vehicle slow down to speeds it was more accustomed.

  She glanced down at the business card in the middle console and rolled her eyes. Kayden Capshaw had probably spent his entire life getting out of things like this because of his looks and she was just his newest victim. Taking another deep breath, the cherry scented car freshener slammed into her nostrils and made her feel nauseous. She grabbed it off the rearview mirror, rolled the window down and threw it out.

  She knew she’d have to find a way to track him down and make him pay for her truck, but that was tomorrow’s problem. She just wanted to get off the road and make it the rest of the way to Hamby, safe and sound. As pissed as she was with him, she couldn’t get his gaze and those eyes out of her mind. She wiped the thought away and for the first time in a long time, she wished her car radio actually worked.

  2

  As she pulled into the small town of Hamby Georgia, there was an immediate release of any stress Lana had a few hours before she crossed the county line. The tranquility of the mountains was a welcome reprise from the highway of trees and asphalt. As the sun began to set in town, the sky was ablaze in warm pinks, purples and orange tones. Mom and pop shops lined the main streets, and up ahead there was a quaint little park where a small family was having a picnic in the middle of it all.

  The one and only public library was situated to the left as she got closer to the town center, and Lana could already smell the aroma of library book pages she planned to read. It made her giddy inside and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. To the right as she drove onward, there was a series of small boutique shops and a grocery store further down the adjacent street.

  Visitors wouldn’t find mainstream chain stores or restaurants in this little haven. Hamby resembled a town from the early fifties; frozen in time and untouched by the haste of modern life. Most buildings were old brick constructions, but looked like they could have been built a year ago—all incredibly maintained through the years. Architecture isn’t done like that anymore, she remembered thinking when she first visited. It was like stepping into a time capsule. Back home, whole sky-rises were built in a few months’ time, and they always felt rushed and cold.

  She could feel a physical release of any remnants of anxiety as she drove further. Lana turned on the roundabout in the middle of the square and once inside the heart of the town, there were no highways, no hustle and bustle, no blaring car horns—just people walking and holding hands, or riding bicycles—peace. After spending sixteen hours on the road she longed to be still for the remainder of her stay.

  She made a right at the stop sign and across from it was Mason's, a mechanic shop she visited once before. The building was one story, white brick with tall red lettering and even though an auto garage, it looked warm and inviting like everything else. As she continued, the local barbershop window was aglow with its twirling blue and red sign on the corner. From the outside looking in, men were being shaved, and getting their hair cut while a few read newspapers, waiting for their turn. A cliché in any town, but slow, easy and the normal in Hamby.

  Observing the utopia before her, she realized how close she almost came to never seeing it again and felt herself getting angry. Lana took another deep, soothing breath and allowed the elixir of this sleepy little town to wash it all away. Further down the cobblestone street, was “Aunt Mae’s Diner.” A quaint little eatery with the best food she’d ever eaten next to her mom’s cooking.

  Lana had already planned to order one of the delicious chicken pot pies and take it up to the house. She could already taste the fresh flakey crust, carrots, gravy and juicy chunks of organic chicken. No preservatives, no fillers, just real food the way God intended it to be. She pulled into the diner’s parking lot and turned off the ignition. As she reached for her purse on the passenger seat, her hand touched nothing. She looked down on the floor and found the purse and its contents spilled out of it.

  Lana rolled her eyes as she reached down and tossed everything back in the small black leather handbag, and hopped out of the truck. The chill in the air stopped her mid-step. The temperature must have dropped by thirty! She slammed the truck door closed, and rubbed her hands together as she made haste toward the entrance.

  Pushing open the stained glass double doors, the smell was exactly as she’d anticipated. Aromas of fresh baked bread, collard greens, ribs, and an assortment of other savory smells filled the air and it was really warm inside. Stepping inside the foyer, the chill of the cold was almost immediately gone. It was due to the toasty fireplace blazing along the side of the wall to her right.

  Then a waitress, an older woman in a white button up shirt, bright pink shorts and black apron smiled at her. She had to have been in her late fifties, as the wrinkles on her face were very apparent. Her hair was pulled into a pony tail way too tight that made her eyes lift at the corners. Her lipstick was long gone, and only the remnants of the liner she used earlier was visible, breaking off into the cracks of her wrinkled lips.

  “Well hello and welcome to Aunt Mae's,” she chimed, with her southern drawl, “Will you be dining in tonight honey?”

  Lana loved their accents—it always tickled her when they spoke.

  “No, I’ll be ordering to go tonight please,” she replied.

  “Well alright then, if you'd like, have a seat at the counter, and I’ll be right with you to take your order, okay,” her arm extended to the bar stools up against the counter in front of the kitchen.

  “Okay thanks,” Lana replied, and in a Nano-second the waitress was gone to help other customers.

  The diner was like any you would see on TV. Juke box in the corner, album memorabilia hung on the walls, and even a few autographed celebrity pictures. The plush booths were green and white, with wooden table tops and the walls had wood paneling on the bottom with floral cream colored wallpaper on the top. The windows were large providing a beautiful view of the outside town.

  The first time she visited, there was a McDonald’s being erected right across from the diner. Most restaurant owners in big cities may have been worried, but not Aunt Mae. When the local TV news interviewed her at the diner and asked how she felt about it, she smiled and replied, “It won’t last a month,” tossing her dish to
wel over her shoulder and bustling back into the kitchen.

  Aunt Mae was the cutest thing Lana had ever seen. She was about five foot one, African American in her early sixties but she didn’t have a wrinkle on her face. She had an exuberant personality and always wore a huge smile on her face. Mae wasn’t overweight nor skinny, however her bosom and posterior made her look larger than she was. As predicted, by the time summer came to an end, the McDonalds was shut down and converted into a general store.

  Lana could see Aunt Mae through the window in the kitchen door, bossing around the cook staff. She ran a tight ship and it showed in every meal. On the counter in front of her, there was an array of cake stands with dark chocolate, red velvet and a strawberry frosted cake. Her mouth watered instantly being so close to them as hungry as she was. Next to those were other stands with every pie you could imagine.

  Lana was already deciding which ones she wanted to try, but before she could form another thought, the waitress was back with her pad in hand. The name “Rachel” was scrawled on the hot pink badge and Lana made a mental note to remember it. She felt it was only polite to use the names of the people serving you.

  “What'll you have this evenin' sugar?” Rachel asked.

  “Hi Rachel, I’d like the chicken pot pie and a slice of pumpkin pie please.”

  “Good choices. I’ll be right back with your order in two shakes of a lambs tail,” she replied tapping Lana on the shoulder with the pad and a grin on her face.

  It wasn’t forced or phony like you sometimes get in the city because the waitress wanted a good tip. You could tell she loved her job, and was probably a happy person in general. Rachel marched over to the kitchen window and placed her ticket on the order wheel. Watching the people in the restaurant and seeing the smiles and laughter, she could feel the love of this community. Hamby always brought out this feeling in her when she arrived. It was like she was coming home, like nothing in her regular life could touch her there.