The glare on the display made it nearly impossible to read the words on the tiny screen. I shaded it with my hand and finally made out the dark text against the greenish screen . . . and let out a huff after reading the message.

Please Pay Inside.

Lovely. Like it or not, it looked like I was going in. But on the bright side, I could scope out the coffee situation while I was in there and decide if I wanted to risk it or try to find a Starbucks on my way.

I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and tugged my keys out of the ignition.

After barely a second’s hesitation, I clicked the key fob and locked the car’s doors. I had my suitcase inside and my laptop. And darn, I’d forgotten my cell phone was still in the vent holder plugged into the car charger with the GPS app running. Too much to risk getting stolen if I left the car unlocked.

Annoyed I had to go in at all, I headed for the building. Next car I bought was going to be totally electric, because pumping gas for my current hybrid, though infrequent, was still too much of a pain to deal with.

I flung open the door in my annoyance and stomped inside.

“A hundred bucks on pump number eight, please.” The deep sultry voice with what sounded like a Texas twang in it stopped my internal rant just inside the entrance.

I swung my head toward the counter and saw something I imagined people didn’t see very often here in Los Angeles County. A pair of Levi’s and at the end of those oh so long legs were—be still my western-romance-novel-loving heart—honest to goodness cowboy boots.

When I could get my gaze up from his intriguing denim-clad butt, I took the time to appreciate what was under the fitted shirt tucked in at the waist made narrower by the thick brown leather belt he wore.

Those broad shoulders . . . They made me want to run my hands up his arms and down his back to feel if his muscles were as hard as I imagined they would be.

Hard. I bet lots of parts of him could be real hard—and jeez. What was I thinking?

I should have packed my vibrator. That’s what I was thinking.

I barely registered the tinkling of the bell behind me. It wasn’t until I heard, “Excuse me,” that I turned around and realized I was blocking the doorway.

The woman behind me looked annoyed. Too bad. I was having a moment here with my cowboy fantasy. Times like this came too few and far between in my life.

I apologized anyway. “Sorry.”

That’s when he turned. He saw me and smiled. A smile that reached all the way up to his hazel eyes.

My pulse racing, I smiled back and moved toward the counter because I wasn’t letting the snotty woman who’d just walked in get in line in front of me. Not when I could be right up behind Tex. Up close and personal.

“Here you go. Sign please.”

He turned back toward the counter so the clerk could hand him back his card. Though not before I appreciated his handsome tanned face and the light brown stubble on his chin that matched his sun-bleached brown hair. He signed the screen and of course I noticed his big strong work-roughened hands. Because of course a man like that wouldn’t have smooth soft hands. No way.

But the end of the transaction meant the end of our encounter. He turned and after a small nod in my direction that nearly made my knees weak, he was gone.

I shoved my card at the clerk. “I need gas, please.”

“How much?”

How did I know how much? “I don’t know. I want to fill it.”

“Well how much does it usually take?” he asked.

“Twenty dollars worth, I guess?” I shrugged.

“Which pump?”

Darn it. I was supposed to know that too, wasn’t I? These were too many questions for this early in the morning.

I glanced out the glass doors. “The one by the white car.”

With a sigh, the clerk moved toward the window and glanced outside. “Pump seven.”

If he said so. “Okay.”

The guy ran my card but not without a judgmental glare. Forgive me if I didn’t know exactly how much gas my car took or notice the pump number.

It was starting to be a cruddy morning, but as I made my way back out of the building and to my car the sight that greeted me wasn’t so bad. Tex was standing, holding the gas nozzle and facing a big black truck. Like really big.

I’d probably need to use those built-in stairs beneath the doors just to get in it.

I pressed my lips tightly together. He might be cute and hot, but I was still judging him and his truck for his enormous carbon footprint. Judging him or whomever he worked for, since closer inspection made me think this was a company vehicle. On the door was painted the name Strickland.

Beneath the name was a logo featuring a rooster. That was fitting. The man driving the truck was certainly cocky.

He turned and noticed me looking. I yanked my gaze away and concentrated overly hard on filling my car.

When I dared glance back, I saw his lips twitch with a smile before he let out a chuckle.

“Something funny?” I asked.

He lifted one shoulder. “Just that if I had to guess what kind of car you drove, I would have guessed that one. Or something like it.”

I had the distinct feeling I’d just been insulted. And by a man who’d ordered a hundred dollars worth of gas when I’d be lucky if all twenty dollars worth fit in my car.

He certainly had no business criticizing me or my choice of vehicles.

I lifted a brow. “And I suppose I should have guessed you’d be driving something like that. Although in this day and age, why anyone would want or need a giant gas guzzler like that is beyond me.”

He matched me by raising his own brow. “Someone would want and need a truck like this because someone often has to haul trailers, and stock, and hay, and feed.”

“Pfft. Not around here,” I countered.

“I’m not from around here.”

I let out a snort. “That’s obvious.”

“Very,” he agreed. “Thank God.”

He’d mumbled the last part under his breath but I heard him.

The pump clicked off and I realized I’d reached my twenty dollar’s worth. And not a minute too soon.

He’d been nice to look at—when he wasn’t talking—but our conversation left a lot to be desired. I was more than ready for it to be over. I had someplace to be. And coffee to find.

I put the nozzle back and moved to the driver’s door. I shot him one last glance and, dammit, he caught me.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, his cockiness clear in his tone.

“Yes. My car doesn’t take a hundred dollars worth of gas.”

“My truck doesn’t either. It’s got dual gas tanks and takes over a hundred dollars to fill but that’s all I’m getting today.” He actually laughed as my eyes widened at that information.

Shaking my head I opened the door.

“Have a good day,” I said, choosing to take the high road. There was no winning this fight. I could see that.

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that. Y’all do the same.”

“Yeah.” I slammed the door and clicked on my seat belt, mumbling as I did, “Butthead.”

In my rear view mirror I saw him still smiling in my direction, like I was ridiculous and he was in the right.

Guys like him were the reason I currently didn’t have a boyfriend. Well, one of the reasons. My bastard ex was the real reason, but that was another story.

Too bad the handsome ones were always the worst.