Isobel let out a breath and bent to scoop the keys from the gravel. They were heavier than she’d expected—cool, polished metal with a subtle emblem she didn’t recognize. She closed Ryder’s door gently and walked around to the driver’s side.
She hadn’t laid eyes on his truck before, but now that she had, it was impossible not to notice—brand-new Chevy 2500, black as midnight, the paint deep enough to swallow the light. Chrome caught the glow from the lot lamps, and the inside was pure luxury: leather stitched tight, touchscreen console that looked like it belonged in a jet, and more buttons on the dash than the cockpit of a chute gate at the NFR.
Sliding in, she found the power seat controls and moved herself forward until she could reach the pedals. The engine rumbled to life beneath her
