“To win your heart, Ronni. I’ve been focused on that since I saw you walking in the bank’s parking lot. Would’ve dented your Honda myself if that kid hadn’t done it.”

I took his arm in mine and loved how he immediately tugged me closer. Rick felt solid—the most solid person I’d ever met.

He opened the door of his fancy car for me. I noticed it looked like it had been detailed with a toothbrush. The radio blared a 70’s song I didn’t recognize, and I hoped there wouldn’t be an oldies music quiz.

“Here,” he said. “Let me switch that.” We were instantly saturated in satellite radio top twenty; something with heavy bass by Jay Z. I wondered if Rick’s ears were bleeding from his attempt to entertain me. I reached over and turned the volume down.

“Let’s talk,” I said. “Did you serve overseas in the Marine Corps?”

He nodded. “Operation Desert Storm. I helped hang on to some oil wells. Not my favorite subject.” Rick grasped the steering wheel hard and sped up to ninety on the interstate. We’d be in Oxford within ten minutes at this rate.

I checked my seat belt and activated my imaginary brake pedal.

He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m a professional.”

“Do you have a blue light for this thing?”

“If we need one. I’m going kinda slow for it right now.”

“Uh huh.” He seemed to want to race every car we pulled aside, expertly weaving around traffic. I was trying very hard to appear nonchalant. Please God, I prayed silently, just get us to the restaurant.

By the time we arrived I was nauseated, shaky and grateful the menu offered a sandwich I could nibble while Rick devoured ribs caveman-style. He had a Coors Light and I managed to gulp three glasses of cheap barbecue-house wine to settle my nerves. They were worth every penny. Our eighty-year-old waitress, Cora, handed the check to Rick. He promptly presented it to me.

“Y’all must be married,” Cora said. She placed her hands on her ample hips.

“No, ma’am,” I answered. “I’m taking him out to dinner to thank him for a favor.”

Rick grinned at Cora. “I helped her catch an evil teenaged villain who hit her car.”

“Oh, it’s you,” she replied, squinting through thick glasses. “Didn’t recognize you out of uniform. Tell you what, honey,” she grabbed the check from my hand, “this one’s on the house.” She winked at Rick.

I had the feeling Rick ate a lot of free meals along the I-20 corridor. When we were back in the car I said, “Friend of yours?”

“Cora broke down on her way to work last year. I changed a tire in the rain so she could make it in time for her shift.”

I began singing Abba’s ‘Super Trouper’ as he started the car.