Me: Probably mid morning. Definitely by noon. What’s up?
Colton: You and me. Buck’s. Tomorrow night.
Me: Fuck you, dude. I’m avoiding that place for a while and you know it.
There was no way I was ready for a run-in with Kendra. Her texts requesting a second date had been relentless.
Colton: Fine. Brick House then.
Me: Fine.
The Brick House was a bar in another small town about five miles away from Tolson. With a DJ, dancing, and drink specials, it was a hot spot on Friday night. I never danced but it was amusing to watching Colton try.
Just as I pulled my hat low over my eyes and sat back in the seat for a fifteen-minute snooze, I saw the same girl from inside the truck stop come out of the bathroom at the back of the building.
She’d been in there a long time and she had different clothes on. Now she was wearing jeans and a light blue tank top. And her hair wasn’t in a braid anymore—it was lying around her shoulders in long, wet waves.
What the hell did she do in there, fall in?
*
After my post-lunch nap, I drove away from the truck stop with thoughts of how to effectively thwart Kendra’s efforts to pursue a relationship.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but avoiding her wouldn’t work forever.
Unfortunately, dating options in our age group were scarce in Tolson.
After graduation, everyone scattered. Most couldn’t wait to get away from the small town, wanting to spread their wings and learn about the world.
Find out what else is out there.
But I was happy to stay put. I didn’t need to go anywhere else to know I was already home.
I’d only been driving for about a mile when I saw someone walking along the side of the road in the distance.
As I got closer I saw the backpack and blonde hair. She turned toward my semi before sticking her thumb out.
“Shit,” I whispered, recognizing her right away. Even from a distance, I could see the hopeful expression on her face, and I felt something twist in my chest.
What the hell did she think she was doing? Hitchhiking was dangerous.
For a split second, I thought about not stopping. I could just keep on driving and forget I ever saw her.
But just as fast, all the possible scenarios played out in my mind. All the things that could happen to her. All the sick, depraved people who could be the ones to pull over and lure her into their vehicle with the promise of a safe ride.
I’d never picked up a hitchhiker before.
Had never planned on it.
But there was no way I could leave this girl out there on her own.
ANGEL
The June heat beat down on my shoulders as I walked along the side of the side of the two-lane highway. Every time a vehicle passed by I stuck my thumb out, but no one even tapped their brakes.
I couldn’t blame them for not stopping. I wouldn’t pick up a hitchhiker either.
My backpack was starting to feel heavier by the minute and I was becoming very aware that my Converse shoes weren’t meant for long-distance hikes. The only sounds to keep me company were the chirping birds, the whooshing of cars passing me by, and the noise of my own footsteps. The side of the road was filled with gravel that crunched under my Chucks with every stride.
Crunch.
Crunch
Crunch.
The scenery left something to be desired. Tall trees lined each side of the highway and that was pretty much it. Then again, most places couldn’t compare to Maine. I thought of the lighthouses along the rocky coast and how beautiful the trees were in the fall.
I wondered if I’d ever go back. I hoped so. Before I left, I spread Claire’s ashes by our favorite lighthouse. She hadn’t specified where she wanted her ashes to go, but I knew it was the right spot.
I’d been walking for about twenty minutes when a giant semi started to slow and pulled over about thirty feet ahead of me.
The brakes hissed as it came to a complete stop, and the constant roar of the engine was loud as I approached the intimidating vehicle.
My heart slammed in my chest as I quickly walked to the passenger side while silently praying in my head.
Please don’t be a pervert.
Please don’t be a pervert.
The outside of the truck was bright red and the logo on the side said Hank & Sons Transport in bold black and white letters. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and ungracefully clamored up into the seat—not an easy feat for someone my size.
I turned to thank my rescuer and froze. My eyes went wide as I took in the man before me.
I was face to face with the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if I was going pale or blushing, because I felt hot and cold all at once. Every single cell in my body was going haywire and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Thick eyelashes framed hazel eyes. Or were they green? I couldn’t be sure because the brim of his ball cap shadowed his eyes. Although his hat covered his head, I could see light brown hair that was short on the sides. He had a day or two of scruff on his face and it added to his sexiness. His nose was straight and masculine, yet somehow cute at the same time.
It made him look younger. Boyish.
Honestly, I’d expected it to smell in here. Like gasoline, cigarettes, and man-stench. It didn’t. Not even a little. The scent was masculine and clean. Maybe soap or deodorant? It didn’t smell strong enough to be cologne.
I heard him clear his throat, and that time I did blush because I realized I’d just been staring. Just staring at him.
Oh my God. How embarrassing.
He smiled and my heart did a thumpity-thump. Dimples. “Where are you headed?”
“How far are you going?” I asked, coming to my senses.
“Last stop is Tolson, Illinois.”
“That works, if you don’t mind.” I’d never heard of Tolson but he was headed in the direction I wanted to go, which was good enough for me. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
He nodded and put the truck into gear as I fumbled with the seat belt.
After a minute of awkward silence, he spoke, “So, what’s your name?”
“Angel Thomas,” I replied, and he snorted. Maybe it was more of a scoff but it was obvious he thought I was lying. “What, you don’t believe me? I’m serious. Here, I’ll even show you my ID.”
As I started to rummage around in my backpack, it occurred to me that it might be common for hitchhikers to lie about their name. And now that I thought about it, maybe I should have, too.
“No. No, it’s fine,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just…” He trailed off.
“It’s just what?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “You just look like an Angel.”
TRAVIS
Her name was Angel.
I laughed because of my previous thought when I saw her at the truck stop. Then I felt my face go hot as I realized how my statement came out.
“Sorry.” I laughed. “That just sounded like a really bad pick-up line. I meant the name suits you. It’s a good name. I mean, you look like your name would be Angel,” I tried to clarify.
Fuck. I was rambling. One minute around this girl and I turned into a bumbling idiot.
Really smooth.
However, I didn’t miss the way her gaze lingered on me when she first got in. The way her eyes widened and her lips parted. Maybe the instant attraction I was feeling wasn’t completely one-sided.
“What’s yours?” she asked and I looked over to see her trying to hide a grin. Hopefully, that meant she didn’t think I was a creep. Or maybe she was just trying not to laugh at me.
“Travis Hawkins,” I told her.
“Well, Travis,” she said, turning her body towards me. “You’re certainly not what I was expecting.”
She was direct. I liked that.
“Let me guess,” I started. “You thought I’d be an
old hairy dude with a beer gut and tattoos. Maybe a mullet?”
She laughed and I really liked the sound. I wanted to make her do it again.
“Something like that, yeah,” she admitted, having the decency to look sheepish from her assumption.
When I made the impulsive decision to pick her up, I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to sit this close to her. To share the same air.
She was two feet away but I could smell her. Vanilla and honey. It made me want to lick the skin on her neck and bury my face in her hair. She had a full, pink mouth and her bottom lip was slightly bigger than the top. I had the sudden urge to bite it.
Shit, maybe I really was a creep. I didn’t even know how old she was.
“How old are you?” I decided to get the question out of the way. “You look a little young to be on your own.”
“I’m not a kid,” she said a bit defensively. “I graduated high school and I’ll be eighteen on June 15th. Seriously, do you want to see my ID? It even has my correct weight on it.” She huffed. “That’s a big deal. I totally should have fibbed a bit and subtracted ten pounds.”
“I believe you.” I held up a hand in surrender. “Okay, so you’re almost eighteen.” Thank God. She wasn’t that much younger than me.
“Speaking of age, are you sure you’re old enough to be driving this thing?” She narrowed her eyes at me and waved her hand around the cab.
I had to laugh. She was the most animated person I’d ever met. When she talked, she used wild hand gestures, and at least six different expressions could cross her face in a single sentence.
“I’m twenty-one, so yes, I’m old enough. I’ve got my CDL in my wallet if you want to see it.” I smirked. “But my wallet is in my back pocket and you’ll have to fish it out for me, seeing as how my hands are occupied.” I wiggled my fingers without taking my hands off the wheel.
I couldn’t help but flirt with her a little. And the pink blush that spread across her cheeks? Fucking adorable.
“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” she muttered and shifted to look out the window. I could see her smiling in the reflection of the glass.
With her head turned, I got a good look at her profile and couldn’t help thinking that she was perfect.
Long eyelashes swept away from the biggest blue eyes I’d ever seen, and her nose was slightly turned up at the end. The tank top she had on was form-fitting and I could clearly see the swells of her perky breasts.
I felt my dick twitch in my pants and I mentally chastised myself for being such a pervert. All she wanted was a ride, not to be eye-fucked by a stranger.
“So,” Angel turned back to me abruptly. “Since we’re going to be traveling together, we should get to know each other a little. I feel it’s only fair that I tell you my negative qualities first.”
Is this girl for real?
I’d expected small talk about the scenery or the weather. I was a complete stranger and she was trusting me to know things about her. Personal things. Hell, she’d already told me her full name and her birthday.
“You know, you really shouldn’t be hitchhiking,” I interrupted her. “There are a lot of crazies out there who would love to take advantage of a vulnerable girl.”
“Which brings me to character flaw number one.” She held up a finger. “I’m a terrible judge of character. I just think everyone is great until they show me they’re not.” She shrugged.
I had to grit my teeth to keep myself from lecturing her about the dangers of being so trusting. I wasn’t kidding when I told her people would take advantage of her. She was far too young and innocent to be out there alone. My fists tightened on the steering wheel when I thought about what could’ve happened to her if she’d been picked up by someone else, and I knew I’d made the right decision.
There was a reason truckers had a stereotype. A lot of them were family men—good men—just trying to make a living, counting the days until they got back home to their loved ones.
And some of them were, well, not. Just like any other group of people in life, there were a few bad apples. Rough, dangerous men. Predators.
They were the ones who picked up the hookers who hung around the truck stops, not caring about how young they were or what brought them to that life. One glimpse of Angel, and they would see her as an easy target.
“Character flaw number two.” She held up two fingers. “If I have something to say, I say it. It’s just a good thing I’m actually a nice person because if I wasn’t, I might really hurt someone’s feelings. I have a bad habit of over-sharing.” She cringed. “Which is pretty much what I’m doing right now.”
“That’s not a bad thing. Being honest. Straightforward. I like that,” I told her. “So what’s next? Lay it on me.”
Her lips pressed together while she thought about it. “Well, I’m really bad at multi-tasking. As in, I can’t do it. It’s why I was a terrible waitress. I mean, really, the worst.” Her animated ways were in full force as her hands slashed through the air and she successfully mimed dropping a tray.
I couldn’t control my laughter. She was so entertaining. I’d never had anyone tell me so much about themselves within five minutes of meeting them.
“So, what about you?” she asked, turning the tables. “Negative qualities first.”
I made a humming sound and paused to think. “I sing in the shower.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “How is that a bad thing?”
I self-consciously scratched my jaw. “I guess if you heard it, you’d understand why.”
ANGEL
And now I was thinking about him in the shower. Not in an innocent way either. No, I was imagining the whole shebang. His hands soaping up his body, water running down bare skin all the way down to his… What was wrong with me? I was being so inappropriate.
Maybe it wasn’t so much about what was wrong with me, but what was right with him.
Travis was hot. Really hot. And I wondered why he was here, behind the wheel of a semi, instead of modeling somewhere.
It wasn’t just about physical attraction, though. He had a lightness to him. He exuded happiness. When he laughed, it was unrestrained. Big belly laughs. And he was the first person to make me smile—really smile—in over a month. My own laughter sounded foreign to my ears.
Maybe he affected me this way because he was older. He wasn’t a boy.
The boys at my old high school were rowdy and immature. I’d had a brief relationship with one guy at the end of my junior year.
After dating for two months, word got back to me that he had been bragging to all the guys in the locker room that we’d had sex.
Not just any sex—anal sex.
Only, he worded it much more crudely than that. It was disgusting. It was disrespectful. And most importantly, it was a big fat lie. The truth was we’d barely made it past second base.
I broke up with him—very publicly in the lunch room—and swore off dating until college.
That was one reason I hadn’t been terribly opposed to switching schools after my aunt’s death. When you’re forever dubbed “butt-sex girl”, moving on doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
Yawning, I suddenly realized how tired I was. The past few days of traveling were catching up with me.
“Why don’t you take a nap or something?” Travis suggested. “You look exhausted and we’ll be on the road for hours.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. I suddenly felt the fatigue weighing down on me and my knees were starting to ache from all the walking.
“Yeah, maybe just for a little while,” I agreed as I laid my head against the passenger door.
I thought about thanking him again, letting him know how grateful I was for the ride, but my eyes were already closing.
*
When I woke up, I was momentarily disoriented because it was dark outside.
“Hey,” a voice said beside me, and I jumped.
It took a second for the events of the day to come back
to me. The awful truck stop bath. Hitchhiking. Travis.
I looked outside and realized we were parked at a rest stop.
“Hey,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. Where are we?”
“Near Mount Vernon, Illinois. I got dinner for us about an hour ago but I didn’t want to wake you up.” He pointed at the fast food sack between us. “I didn’t know what you like. I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”
“Nope, I’ll pretty much eat anything except for sushi,” I said, already digging through the bag. “Because sushi is disgusting. I know, I know. Everyone is supposed to love sushi. It’s like New York City or wine or The Beatles,” I rambled on. “Everyone says they love it because everyone else says you’re supposed to.”
My mini-rant ended when I took a very unladylike bite of the cheeseburger and moaned. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t warm anymore. Delicious.
“You don’t like those things?” He chuckled.
I made a face when I remembered the sip of Merlot Claire let me try at dinner once. “I’ve only tried wine one time. I expected it to taste like grape juice. It didn’t.” I shuddered. “And I don’t dislike The Beatles. Love them, actually. But I bet if I didn’t, you’d give me a funny look,” I accused. “And I’ve never been to New York City, so the verdict is still out on that one.”
Seeming amused, Travis sat back in his seat and allowed me to finish my food in silence.
“Thank you, Travis,” I said, balling up the wrapper and placing it back in the sack. “You didn’t have to get me dinner.”
“I ordered off the dollar menu,” he informed me. “It’s not a big deal.”
He handed me a napkin and coughed to cover his laugh when he pointed at the giant glob of ketchup I had on my face. Grimacing, I wiped at my cheek. I couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing myself around this guy.
“So, listen,” Travis started, sounding hesitant. “I should’ve told you earlier that I have to make another drop off in the morning… Which means we’ll need to find somewhere to stay the night. Usually I just stay at a rest stop because I have a sleeper cab,” he explained, nodding his head toward the back of the semi where there was a beige curtain hanging over the small doorway. “But that sleeping situation isn’t ideal for two people. We should get you a motel room. My treat.”
Trucker (The Good Guys #1) Page 3
