His Small-Town Girl
The sweet, clean aroma of freshly harvested fields invaded the low-slung sports car as it flew along the narrow ribbon of road, its sun roof open to the autumn breeze. Tyler sucked in a deep breath, feeling the last of his tension drain away, as if a great weight had lifted from his chest. Finally.
When he'd walked out of the board meeting in Dallas, almost four hours ago now on this last day in a long and difficult week, his only thought had been to find some peace somewhere. For Tyler this meant shutting off his cell phone, climbing into his expensive cinnamon-red car and hitting the road for a good, long drive. Operating from sheer impulse, he'd headed north, avoiding the most well-traveled roads, and now he found himself in Oklahoma on Highway 81, a smooth, level two-lane stretch with little traffic for a Friday afternoon.
A blinking yellow light brought his attention to the dashboard. He depressed a button on the steering column and saw via a digital readout that at his current rate of speed he could drive exactly 8.9 miles with the fuel remaining in his gas tank. Time to pull over. A glance at the in-dash clock showed him that the hour had gone six already.
... read full excerpt from His Small-Town Girl ebook
