Trucker (The Good Guys #1)(5)

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.