Trucker Daddy (Working Man Series Book 3)

by Elizabeth Rose

  She was doing this for little Magnolia, she reminded herself, trying to push away the thought of Charlotte telling her Cal was a player and fast with women. She was also doing this to buy into a business as a partner with Charlotte, she said, over and over again in her head. She’d have to keep her guard up, and not let Cal affect her this way. This time, if anyone was going to walk away, it would be her because she swore she wouldn’t ever let him hurt her again.

  Cal closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the truck, nodding to the honking cars and waving to the angry people. He also nodded a greeting to Judas who was now heading over with his ticket book in his hand.

  Cal couldn’t stop thinking of how Twiggy’s small body felt in his hands when he’d helped her into the truck. Her waist was slim, but her hips were deliciously rounded beneath her tight jeans. An old attraction took hold of him, and he wasn’t able to push from his mind the kiss of passion they’d shared back in their high school days.

  He released a breath of frustration and hoisted himself into the cab, closing the door behind him. “I’m going,” he called out to Judas and waved. Judas scowled and stopped in his tracks, looking over at the angry drivers behind him. Who the hell knew the little town of Sweetwater even had enough cars or enough people for a traffic jam? The thought was almost amusing.

  “Get going,” Judas growled, changing direction and walking behind the truck.

  “All set?” Cal asked Tuesday, but she didn’t answer. He turned his head to see Burrito sitting on the seat next to him, but Twiggy wasn’t there. Then he realized the dog had stopped howling and the baby was no longer crying. He looked back to the sleeper compartment and groaned when he saw Twiggy’s back end as she was bent over comforting the baby. Her jeans seemed as tight as a second skin. He felt his own jeans tightening at the groin, just from one glance at her pear-shaped rear.

  He turned back around and jammed the truck into gear, pulling away, trying not to look in the rearview mirror or he’d just get another view of Tuesday’s enticing rump.

  “Where’s the baby’s car seat?” came Tuesday’s muffled voice from behind him.

  “She’s sitting in it,” he grumbled, glancing at his side mirror, seeing the traffic slowly starting to move down the street now. There was a crowd of people standing outside their shops, being nosey like everyone in a small town always was. Levi was waving his arms around, trying to coax everyone over to the Three Billy Goats Diner.

  Cal wanted nothing more than to turn right around and go back to the Man Cave, relaxing with a cold beer in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

  “This isn’t a car seat. It is a baby carrier only,” came Tuesday’s complaint from behind him, dragging him away from his dreams of pleasure, and quickly back to reality.

  He was a father now, he reminded himself. Or at least the baby’s guardian. For now. That meant the only thing he had to look forward to from now on was a colicky baby, lots of spit up and dirty diapers, and never getting sleep or a moment to himself ever again.

  “Cal, did you hear me?” asked Tuesday, trying to turn around in the sleeper compartment, knocking her bottom end against his microwave. Just that fast, his thoughts were on bedding the girl again. Like that was ever going to happen. Especially with a baby along. “Magnolia’s much too big for one of these. What were you thinking?” Tuesday continued to scold him. “Plus, she wants to sit up, not lie down the whole way. No wonder she keeps crying.”

  “How do you know what she wants?” he growled, glancing at them both in the rearview mirror. “It’s not like she told you.”

  “She didn’t have to. It’s common sense. Maggie can’t stay in this carrier for the duration of the trip. It’s uncomfortable, not to mention it’s not up to safety regulations.”

  “Then just let her sit on your lap for a while.”

  Wrong thing to say. When he looked up into the rearview mirror, hoping to see her back end again, he saw her frowning face instead. Burrito whined and lay down on the seat with his nose between his paws, feeling defeated as well.

  “It’s illegal for a child not to be in a car seat, plus she can’t ride in the front,” she retorted. “Children can only ride in the back until they are old enough. Do you honestly know nothing at all about babies?”

  “I’m a trucker, honey, not a nanny. However, I happen to know that the front is fine for the baby because of the size and safety of being in a rig, and the fact it doesn’t have air bags.” He didn’t really know for sure, but tried to sound convincing. After all, it only made sense.

  “Well, I don’t care. She’s staying in back. Now, Maggie needs a car seat before we go any further,” she told him.

  “Twiggy, don’t worry about it. The baby will be fine. Now stop whining like the dog and get back in your seat. I’m on a run and every minute counts.”

  “No! Now stop by the closest store and let’s pick one up before we go any further.”

  “I don’t want a bunch of baby paraphernalia taking up all my living room,” he grumbled as the baby started to fuss again.

  “It is huge back here,” she said, looking around. “Plus you seem to have tons of compartments to store things. It won’t take up too much room, I promise.”

  “Are you sure it’s really necessary?”

  “It is,” she said through her teeth.

  “Fine,” he answered with a sigh. He didn’t want to put the baby in jeopardy so he decided he wouldn’t fight the idea any longer. They’d just have to make it a quick trip.

  Tuesday made her way to the front and when she did, the dog jumped down to the floor. Then she plopped down on the empty seat, accidentally stepping on Burrito’s tail. The dog snapped and growled a warning, but didn’t touch her at all. Her body stiffened. In one motion, she pushed far away against the opposite door and put her feet up on the seat. With wide eyes, she raised her hand in front of her as if she were trying to protect herself by warding off the dog.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Afraid of dogs?”

  By the look of fear in her eyes he could see that it was true. Now it made sense why she didn’t want the dog along. Still, she came with him anyway. That impressed Cal. Tuesday was either very brave or much too greedy for the money she’d earn, or she never would have accepted the job. He chuckled and shook his head. Burrito was one of the most docile dogs anyone would ever meet and would never hurt her.

  She moved against the massage button on the seat and it started up, scaring the crap out of her.

  “The seats are equipped with heat, a cooling devise, and also a massager,” he told her. “This Peterbilt is basically brand new and has anything you could imagine. Don’t you love it?”

  “Turn it off,” she cried, sounding panicked. He reached over and shut off the massager, smiling because she was so cute.

  When her jaw clenched in anger, Cal realized Tuesday must have thought he was laughing at her.

  “A fear of dogs is a very real situation and nothing to laugh about,” she spat, leaning so far over to get away from the dog that he was surprised she didn’t fall out the door.

  “I understand, but you’re just being silly, sweetheart. Burrito would never hurt you. Plus, you don’t need to fear the massager. That won’t bite either.”

  “I’m not being any sillier than you being afraid of a little, harmless baby,” she rallied.

  “Me?” His head snapped around. “I’m not afraid of a – a baby.” He glanced over his shoulder at Magnolia, feeling like he was walking on egg shells, hoping she wasn’t going to start wailing again. He couldn’t handle her crying and didn’t know what to do. Ever since he’d inherited her, he’d been on edge. Maybe Tuesday was right. Now that she’d pointed it out, he supposed he was a little afraid of the baby after all. It didn’t matter, because hell if he’d ever admit it aloud.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” he said, keeping his eyes out the window, pretending he didn’t know what she meant.

&nbs
p; “Aren’t you afraid of the baby? I know you are, so just admit it,” she said in a knowing tone.

  Cal hurriedly changed the subject.

  “I understand your fear is real, and I’m sorry I said it was silly,” he apologized, just to suffice her. Burrito lay down on the floor and looked up at Cal with big, sad eyes. The dog was used to riding shotgun on Cal’s runs, and hanging his head out the window. He was a big dog and couldn’t stay curled up on the floor for long. “Burrito thinks he’s a person,” he added. “And you’re in his seat. Now, if only you could see that, maybe you two would get along.”

  “I have no intention of befriending a dog, and certainly not treating an animal like a person.” Tuesday repositioned her legs, trying to get them totally on the seat with her, hugging her knees so her feet weren’t on the floor by the dog. “I plan on staying as far away from your dog as possible.”

  “Well, you can’t sit that way all the way to Texas, and neither can Burrito stay on the floor.”

  “Then tell your dog to go in the back. It’s like a small apartment back there and has plenty of room for dogs.”

  “Fine,” he said with a sigh, knowing it was the only thing that was going to shut her up. “Burrito, go in the back with the baby.” Burrito jumped up and did as ordered.

  “Wait!” Tuesday cried out, startling him. Cal’s eyes shot back out the front window and then to each side, gripping the steering wheel, being ready to slam on the brakes. With her yelling like that, he was sure he was about to hit a car.

  “What? What is it? Why are you screaming?” he shouted, not seeing any danger.

  “The dog shouldn’t be by the baby either. It’s not safe.”

  “That’s why you shouted out and almost caused an accident?” he growled. “If it bothers you that much, then why don’t you go in the back with the baby instead? Let Burrito sit where he usually does – on the seat you’re occupying. Then everyone will be happy.”

  Tuesday didn’t seem to like the idea. She glanced over her shoulder to the back area, and then out the front window. “Well, I suppose Magnolia will be all right since you say the dog won’t harm her.” She settled herself in the seat the proper way with both feet on the floor. Then she strapped on her seat belt with a defiant click.

  Cal felt pleased she’d opted to stay with him instead of sitting in back with the baby. He shifted gears and stepped on the gas. He’d have to make up time since she’d already wasted precious minutes.

  “Where are all the baby supplies?” she asked turning around and craning her neck. “All I saw is a diaper bag, but nothing else. Do you have them locked away in the cabinets?”

  “No. That’s it.”

  “That’s it? What does that mean?”

  “I guess all the baby things must have burned up in the fire,” he told her. “The bag, along with the carrier, was all they gave me when I picked her up.”

  “So you’re saying . . . you have . . . nothing? Not even a toy for her to play with?”

  “She’s got Burrito to play with.” He heard the dog licking the baby’s face and the baby giggling. Tuesday heard it, too. Her head snapped around and she started scolding the dog.

  “Burrito, no! Cal, tell your dog to stop licking the baby’s face,” she gasped. “It’s not sanitary.”

  “Take it easy, Twiggy,” Cal answered with a grin. “Everyone likes to be licked once in a while.” He looked out of the corners of his eyes and saw her mouth open in protest. “Don’t you agree?”

  When she suddenly understood his little sexual innuendo, her eyes opened wide and her face turned red. Not saying a word, she turned her head and looked out the window, slowly sinking down into the seat.

  “When’s the last time you fed the baby?” she asked stiffly.

  “She had a bottle this morning. Don’t worry, I picked up some of the awful smelling soy formula you were talking about. I can’t believe anyone would really give it to their child.”

  “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about food. You know – real food.”

  “Food?” He suddenly felt as if he were the most incompetent father in the world. He hadn’t realized babies ate actual food at this age. Didn’t that come much later – like when they were one or maybe two?

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t given her anything to eat.” She glared at him in disbelief.

  Cal cleared his throat, wondering how the hell he’d get out of this one. “Well, I’ve got part of a leftover Southwest sausage and egg burrito in the fridge in the back.”

  Tuesday studied him with one eye partially squinted. It was a look that said, you are kidding, aren’t you, mixed with, you are the biggest fool to ever walk the earth, all at the same time. He knew she was about to explode but wasn’t sure exactly what to say.

  “Babies can’t eat burritos,” she ground out. “I’m talking about – oh, never mind. Just turn right at the next light.” Her arm extended and she pointed a long finger out the window. “There’s a Super S&B up ahead, on the outskirts of town. I hope you’re up for a little shopping.”

  “Shopping? At the Super Son-of-a-Bitch?” He hadn’t planned on that. Especially not shopping with a woman . . . for baby supplies.

  “Hush. It’s not called that, so watch your language around the baby!”

  “No?” he asked sarcastically. “Then tell me, what does the S&B stand for?”

  “It stands for Shop and Buy. Super Shop and Buy. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

  “That’s not what the truckers call it. Besides, they don’t have them back in Texas, so how would I know?”

  “No Super S&Bs?” She blinked twice, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to believe him.

  “None,” he responded. “We only have Piggles and Wiggles or Plains Mart.”

  “Oh,” she said in thought. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Quick, pull in here.” She pointed out the window once again and Cal found his eyes roving over her arm.

  “Twiggy,” he groaned. “I’m on a time schedule and need to deliver this load. I can’t be late. Shopping isn’t on the agenda.”

  “The only load you’ll be picking up is the one Maggie leaves behind if we don’t get some more diapers soon.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he agreed, thinking of the deposit the baby left him earlier this morning. Even Burrito had hidden his nose between his paws at the putrid smell. “We’ll get diapers and baby food, but nothing else. The storage areas are filling up fast now that we’ve got your big suitcase in the back.”

  “Cal Reeves, you have a lot to learn about babies if you’re going to be a good father to Maggie.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he grumbled, pulling the rig into the lot.

  “Don’t worry about it, because I intend to teach you everything you need to know about babies in the next few days,” she said with a satisfied nod and a smile.

  That’s exactly what Cal was afraid of. While he didn’t mind polishing his nonexistent skills of being a father, he did mind Twiggy’s unspoken threat to domesticate him. He’d prided himself on being a free man and a bachelor. He wasn’t ready to give up nights out drinking and playing pool with the boys. He was too young to be sitting home on a Saturday night with a baby bottle in one hand and dirty diaper in the other. Especially if he hadn’t even been involved in the fun part – making the kid.

  That thought only got him thinking about the sexy woman next to him again. His eyes scanned down her tight t-shirt which exposed the curves of her breasts. Then his gaze traveled a bit farther down to her tiny waist and settled at the vee of her tight jeans just below that tiny waist.

  “Keep your eyes on the road,” she warned him without even looking at him. It was as if she were a mind reader or something.

  Well, one thing Cal did know about babies was how to make them. And if Tuesday Twaggard didn’t stop looking so sexy, he’d be teaching her all he knew, as well, before this trip was over.

  Chapter 4

  “Come on, Twiggy, we’ve re
ally got to get going,” complained Cal fifteen minutes later as Twiggy pushed the cart down the aisle with Magnolia strapped into the front baby seat. They went up one aisle and down another looking at more baby things than he had ever seen in his life.

  Little Magnolia was old enough to sit up while strapped into the child seat in the cart but, still, Twiggy kept close by to keep a good eye on the child.

  “Don’t rush me,” she answered. “And do you really have to keep calling me Twiggy?”

  “That’s what I’m going to call you, so get used to it.”

  She let out a deep sigh. “There are a lot of things we need and I want to be sure to check out all the options, and also not to forget anything.”

  “For God’s sake, we’ve been up and down every aisle in the baby department twice, and you’ve yet to put anything in the cart.”

  “Cal, stop the swearing around your daughter,” she said, running a loving hand over Magnolia’s soft, downy strawberry-blond hair.

  “Daughter?” He jerked in surprise and frowned. It sounded weird hearing her say that. “Maggie’s not my daughter. Not really. She’s my niece.”

  “True,” said Tuesday, taking a tissue from her pocket and wiping drool from the baby’s mouth. “But you are also Maggie’s father now since you will be raising her and she has no one else.”

  “That’s not so,” he protested. “The baby has a father.”

  “Really?” asked Tuesday, looking up with those bright eyes that seemed too blue to be real. “I don’t see him anywhere, do you? Jenna left you as the baby’s guardian in her will. If little Magnolia has a father, who is he and where is he?”