Trucker (The Good Guys #1)(18)

The thought had crossed my mind, but it was way too soon to bring it up to Angel, so I decided to switch to a different topic.

"I think we're having trouble controlling ourselves …  physically," I  admitted, and I grimaced because it made me feel like a total pussy.  "We're both not very experienced, you know … " I shook my head, feeling  frustrated. "I just don't want to rush it."

Colton guffawed and clapped me on the back. "Welcome to being in lust, my friend."





ANGEL

Instead of driving to Travis's mom's house, we walked. Everything in  Tolson was within walking distance, so when the weather allowed that was  the preferred method of transportation.

It was a beautiful evening as we walked up the driveway to a cute  one-story home with light yellow siding and white shutters. A small  garage sat behind the house and a white fence lined the backyard. Colton  came along, too, because apparently he would never miss lasagna night.

Travis said I should dress casual when he saw me debating between the  dress from last night and a T-shirt with jeans, so I went with the  latter. I was wearing my white off the shoulder tee and Travis couldn't  seem to stop touching the exposed skin.

I wasn't complaining.

He had his arm around me and every time his thumb brushed my shoulder, I felt a swooping sensation in my stomach.

"You were wearing this the first time I saw you," he whispered into my ear.

Before I could respond, Colton waltzed in the front door of the house  and shouted "Yo, Karen! Travis has someone he wants you to meet!"

I rolled my eyes. Subtle.

Travis shrugged and smiled, giving me the dimples.

I hesitated at the threshold and he noticed. "Don't worry, she's going  to love you," he promised as he linked our hands together.

Ready or not, he tugged me inside. The front door led right into a small  living room with walls painted a pale yellow. A floral couch and  loveseat took up most of the space, but instead of looking crowded it  was cozy. The coffee table and TV stand were made from some kind of  weathered wood, giving it a rustic, shabby chic style. It was nice.  Homey.

The smell of lasagna and garlic bread filled the air and my mouth  watered. A petite woman wearing a pink and white chevron print apron  over yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt came out of the kitchen.

She was pretty-beautiful, even-and didn't look older than early-forties.  Her light brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail. Though she was  much smaller than Travis, the resemblance was definitely there.

Something about her immediately put me at ease. Maybe it was the casual clothes.

Or the fact that she was so dang happy to see me.

After noticing I was holding Travis's hand, she smiled brightly, showing  a very familiar set of dimples. And it was no ordinary smile-her face  lit up like the Fourth of July. The woman was ecstatic.

"Mom, this is Angel," Travis introduced me.

Thinking we would shake hands, I started to extend my arm her way. I  realized a simple handshake wasn't going to happen when I was engulfed  in her arms. My hand got caught awkwardly between us against my stomach,  and my breath left my body with a whoosh with how hard she squeezed.

Travis obviously came from a family of huggers.

"I'm Karen," she said, still squeezing. She abruptly pulled back,  putting me at arms-length. With her hands on my shoulders, she looked me  up and down. "She's gorgeous, Travis. How did you two meet?" she asked,  finally leaving my personal space.

"We met while I was on the road," he said vaguely. "Angel needed a place  to crash for a few weeks before she goes to California to find her  mom."

Karen quickly hugged Travis, then Colton, before turning back to me.

"Well, you boys go watch some TV. Isn't there a baseball game on or  something? Angel and I are going to have some girl time." She made a  shooing motion at them before looping an arm around my shoulders and  ushering me to the kitchen.

I sent Travis a pleading look, but he just smiled and gave me a thumbs-up sign.

Traitor.

The kitchen held the same rustic theme as the living room. The cabinets  were painted white and the counter was made from wood butcher block.  Fancy floral tea cups decorated the shelves above the kitchen sink.  There was a nook on the far end of the room that held the dining area  with a round wooden pedestal table and five chairs.                       
       
           



       

"I'm gonna need details," Karen sang.

"Details?"

"Of course. We're women. It's what we do," she explained as she slipped  her hands into oven mitts. After taking the lasagna and garlic bread out  of the oven, Karen faced me. "So, you're trying to find your mom?" she  fished.

I nodded and took a deep breath. I didn't want to be dishonest to  Travis's mother, so I went for the truth. "I won't have to look very  hard. I know where she is." I paused and she waited patiently for me to  continue. "She's in prison."

Karen didn't miss a beat. "And you and Travis met on the road … ?"

"In Ohio," I finished for her. "I was hitchhiking. He took pity on me and picked me up."

"Well," she breathed out as she sagged back against the counter, oven  mitts still on her hands. I braced myself for the disapproval that was  sure to come. Would she give me a lecture? Tell me to stay away from her  son? "That's one hell of a love story, if I've ever heard one."

Two things happened-my jaw dropped open because that was the last thing I  expected her to say. And I also turned ten shades of red because she  implied her son and I were in love.

"Oh …  Uhh … " I stammered and let out a nervous laugh. "We've only known each other for, like, three days … "

She made a dismissive sound and started to take the aluminum foil off the lasagna.

"Here, you can slice the garlic bread." She patted the space on the counter next to her and handed me a bread knife.

As I started cutting the loaf into thick slices, I glanced at Karen out  of the corner of my eye. I'd forgotten what it felt like to make dinner  with a mother-type figure. It was nice. Claire wasn't much of a cook.  She said slaving away in the kitchen stifled her creative mind-whatever  that means.

Working side by side with Karen felt more comfortable than it should, considering I'd just met the woman.

"So you don't think my situation is weird?" I asked, hesitantly.

She paused. "How much did Travis tell you about me?"

"Some." I glanced at her. I wasn't sure if I should tell her I knew  about her drinking problems. "He said you're a great mom and he's proud  of you."

"He's a good boy," she said warmly. "I'll be the last one to throw  stones. If you think I'm gonna judge you because of where you came from,  you're wrong. I'm an alcoholic. Been sober for seven months and sixteen  days."

"That's really great. The sober part, I mean," I added, and she laughed.

"I'll bet Travis didn't tell you you're the first girl he's ever brought  home," she said while she heaped lasagna onto four plates.

I added a few pieces of garlic bread to each plate as I tried to hide my surprise. "No, he didn't tell me that."

"I've been waiting for this day," she beamed at me then turned to yell into the living room. "Dinner's up, boys!"





TRAVIS

Dinner at my mom's house went just as well as I knew it would. Angel fit  right in. Colton and I discussed some business at the shop and the  Mount Vernon delivery he had to haul in the morning, until Mom told us  to stop talking about work at the dinner table.

Before our plates were even clean, Mom had out the photo albums.

"And this one is Travis in the baby tub. He had the cutest little  tushy … " she pointed out, and Angel laughed so hard her eyes watered.

Seriously, naked baby pictures?

Kill me now.

I sent a scowl in Angel's direction, but she just smiled and gave me a  thumbs-up. The corners of my lips twitched. I guess I deserved that.

As we were getting ready to leave, I turned to my mom. "Angel wants to  find some temporary work while she's here. You got any ideas?"

"Well, we don't need any help at the post office. That's where I work,"  she informed Angel. "It would be difficult to find a job for such a  short amount of time."

"I was thinking more along the lines of house-cleaning, babysitting, or  dog-walking," Angel told her. "I've done some pet-sitting before."

"You know, Beverly Johnson is looking for someone to do some yard work.  She's almost eighty and she's having trouble getting around these days.  Have you ever mowed a lawn before?" my mom asked.

"No, but I could do it," she replied with confidence.

"I'll see Beverly at church tomorrow morning. I'll tell her you'll stop by. Is Monday around noon okay?"