Crush (Crash #3)(25)

I laughed. "Probably. Only horny pervs drive trucks like these."

Grabbing the handle, Jude swung the door open. "I'm with you on the horny part, but could we drop the perv part? I don't really want my fiancée to think of me as a pervert."

My mouth dropped open as Jude situated my bags in the backseat. "This is yours? When did you get it? Where's your old truck?" I couldn't stop the flow of questions.

Holding out his hand for me, he helped me into the truck. I had to leap to get inside.



       
         
       
        

"This is mine. I got it a couple days ago. And my old truck is going to be scrapped as soon as possible." Shutting the door behind me, he jogged around the front and crawled into the driver's seat. Even Jude in all his gigantor size had to jump to get inside.

When he turned the key over, the engine fired to life. It was so loud, it vibrated the cab. "Now, this is a truck we could get it on in," he said, eyeing the second-row seat, where there was more than enough space for "getting it on."

"We didn't have any problem in your old truck," I muttered, clicking my seat belt into place.

Jude stopped in the middle of reversing out of the spot, eyeing the empty middle seat, then looking at where I sat at the end of the bench. "You hated that old rust bucket," he said, visibly hurt I wasn't sitting right next to him like I normally did.

Unfastening my belt, I scooted over until I was pressed against him. Jude's body running the length of mine was the only thing familiar about this truck. "It was a love/hate relationship," I said defensively. "That was more love than hate."

Clearly appeased, he hung his arm over my shoulders and continued out of the parking spot. "Well, I've still got the beater, so you can say your good-byes before he goes off to truck heaven."

"I'm not ready for him to go to truck heaven." I pouted, wondering why I was so upset. Jude was right: I wasn't his old truck's biggest fan. But now, seeing what it had been replaced with-something shiny and new-made me anxious for reasons I didn't want to admit to myself.

"I got you a little present," Jude said. "It's in the glove box."

Once he was free and clear of the garage, he gunned it. You would have thought that truck had the engine of an Indy car from the way it took off.

"My just-because present?"

"Just because I love you," he said, clearly eager for me to open it.

I was nervous, even more so after seeing the new truck, the cost of which I couldn't even begin to imagine.

When I opened the glove box, a robin's-egg-blue box with a white bow toppled out. I picked it up, already close to hyperventilating. I'd never received a gift in the blue-and-white box, but it was iconic. Every girl knew what store it came from and what was inside. It was a female rite of passage to identify this particular shade of robin's-egg blue.

I brought it to my lap and stared at it.

"Open it," he encouraged. "I've been dying to give it to you since I picked it out last week."

I smiled. It was impossible not to with that boyish look on his face. "This is a pretty fancy box, Mr. Ryder," I said, untying the bow. 

"Walmart does a pretty badass gift wrap, don't they?"

I elbowed him. "Nice try." I doubted I'd ever get another Walmart present from him again. The idea made me sad.

"Open it," he said. "Nothing's too good for my girl. It's nice I can finally afford those things you deserve."

"Jude-"

Before I could say whatever I'd been planning to say next, his mouth was on mine, fast and hard. Just as quickly, it was gone. I might have thought I'd made the whole thing up if I couldn't still taste him on my lips.

"Open it," he said, his face smug.

He knew exactly what he was doing and used that to his advantage. He could have been asking me to jump off a cliff, and I was so foggy brained I would have.

I took a breath and slid the lid off.

Nestled inside was a silver cuff bracelet. Simple and elegant. Something I would have picked out for myself, if I'd allowed myself to pick out something so nice.

"Wow," I breathed, pulling it out. It was heavy and cool to the touch.

"Do you like it?" He glanced between the road and me.

"Now, that's a bracelet," I said, not having to fake my excitement for him.

"Turn it over," he instructed. "There's something else."

Shooting him a curious look, I rotated the bracelet. There was an engraving on the inside, and the words made me weak in all the places a girl could go weak.