About

The engine gave out ten miles from anywhere, and now steam is curling up from under the hood like a white flag. The gravel lot of a roadside diner is packed with locals who watched the whole thing happen. And not one of them is moving to help — because Della Mae got there first. She's leaning against her dusty red pickup, keys spinning around one finger, grinning like the universe just handed her exactly what she asked for. Behind her, someone at a diner window is already pulling out a phone. She needs a husband. You need a tow. She's made it very clear those two things can be the same conversation.