Free Hell on Wheels: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Karen Leabo Page B

got into this business, you would never see this many chasers on the road at one time. Chasing has gotten to be a very popular pastime. I really miss the days of just me and Amos and the sky. I don’t know how long it’s been since we witnessed a tornado by ourselves.”
    “You miss him, don’t you.”
    “Of course I do. But I must say, you’ve been … well …”
    “A pain in the butt?”
    “No, that isn’t what I was going to say.” What had she been going to say? That he was fun? A good sport? A helluva lot sexier than his uncle? She finally settled on “You’ve been quite good company.” She covertly glanced in his direction to gauge his reaction.
    To her surprise, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re not so bad yourself, Vic—Victoria,” he said, correcting himself before he committed another nickname sin. Just when she was about to respond with a pleasant rejoinder, he added, “And you’re real pretty when you’re mad.”
    “Oh, Roan, how trite. Can’t you think of anything more original?”
    He just grinned maddeningly.
    Even so, his silly observation sent a chill of pleasurewiggling along her spine. Her attraction to this man was growing by leaps and bounds with every passing hour—and this was only the end of their second day together.
    Victoria followed the caravan of cars, trucks, and vans as it pursued another likely-looking cloud, but her instincts told her it wouldn’t pan out, and it didn’t. Before long, the cacophony of voices on the radio were making dinner plans.
    “Are you hungry?” Victoria asked.
    “Do you even have to ask?”
    “Good point. I guess we can join the others for dinner, although we’ll be the only ones there not eating steak.”
    As they pulled into the parking lot of a little restaurant in Oswego, the cellular phone rang and Victoria answered it. “Chase II.”
    “Where are you?” a scratchy voice on the other end of the line asked.
    “Professor! Oh, it’s good to talk to you. How are you feeling?”
    “Never mind me. Did you see it?”
    “Um, no. We were delayed with car trouble—”
    “Oh, don’t tell me. You let Roan drive and he had a wreck.”
    “No, nothing that serious,” she said. “The Chasemobile is just fine. But we missed the tornado by about ten minutes.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, missy. But you’ll catch one tomorrow.”
    “Will there be any action tomorrow?”
    “Mmm, I’m not saying. It’s your gig this time.”
    “Not even a clue?” she wheedled.
    “Okay, one clue. Kansas.”
    “Boy, that really narrows it down.”
    Roan nudged her. “Let me talk to him.”
    “Roan wants to talk to you,” she said, then handed over the phone.
    “Hi, Unc.… Yeah, she’s taking real good care of me—except for those temper tantrums. You never told me she could curse like a stevedore.”
    Victoria groaned and buried her face in her hands. If she survived this trip with her life, her reputation, and her heart intact, it would be a miracle.
    Victoria hadn’t been kidding about the steak. The storm chasers filled a long table at the restaurant, and every one of them ordered a T-bone or rib eye. The scent of all that char-broiled beef had Roan’s salivary glands at full attention, and the fried chicken he’d ordered simply didn’t satisfy him.
    Victoria ate only a couple of bites of the pork chops she’d requested, and Roan couldn’t blame her for her loss of appetite. Her so-called associates ribbed her unmercifully about her lousy luck and crummy timing, and Jeff Hobbs felt obligated to tell everyone else about her faulty decision to turn around the previous day.
    It was all meant in good fun. Roan got the feeling that this was a fairly close-knit group, and everyone had endured this type of teasing at one point or another. Butthe fact that Victoria was a woman in an essentially male pastime seemed to add a sharper edge to the ribbing.
    To her credit, Victoria handled it all with aplomb. She clearly had the ability to