Page 18 of Truck Me
She looks genuinely confused. “Why would you do that?”
“Why do you think, Princess?”
Her eyes narrow into thin slits. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” I grumble. “You earned it. Get whatever you need and come on.”
I shut the hood of her car and pass by her toward my truck, doing my best to avoid looking at her long, sexy legs.
“Do you have to be so grumpy all the time?”
“Yes,” I grumble and keep walking. When I reach the passenger side, I open the door and then stare at her over the top of it.
She stares at me but doesn’t make a move. If I could see her expression, I’d bet all the cash in my wallet that she looks angry. Good. She’s being ridiculous right now if she thinks for one second that I’d leave her along the side of the road at night alone. We may not get the same level of crime she’s used to living in Chicago, but bad things still happen out here.
Then she huffs and reaches into her car. I hope to get her purse and keys.
I whistle for Bullet to come before I move her blanket over to the center of the seat. Bullet doesn’t move until Charlotte has locked up her car and is heading toward me.
Yeah, my dog is definitely a traitor.
For a second, I feel like the asshole I’m sure she’s silently accusing me of being. Especially since her arms are full of bags. I should help her carry those.
It’s not like me to be this outwardly grumpy with someone. I may complain and groan inwardly, but I still do the right thing. For reasons I can’t explain. I don’t trust myself around Charlotte. The bigger an asshole she thinks I am, the better.
When they reach me, Bullet hops in first. Then I offer Charlotte my hand to help her up. A zap of electricity shoots up my arm the second her delicate, soft hand slides inside my large, rough one. She flinches, and I wonder if she felt it too.
Once she’s settled in the truck, she sets her bags at her feet and looks over at me. We’re almost eye level now and there’s enough light coming from the dash of my truck that I can see the apprehensive look on her face.
“Thank you,” she says as she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s shivering, and I stifle another growl as my eyes rake over her bare legs. Fuck, she’s got nice legs. I reach behind the seat to grab one of the extra blankets I keep in my truck.
“Here.” I spread it over her legs without asking her if she wants it. I don’t need to hear her objections. They’d be lies anyway. I can see that she’s cold.
Once her legs are covered, I shut the door, head to the driver’s side, and climb in. We’re silent as I pull back onto the highway. Bullet rests her head on Charlotte’s lap, making her smile. She pets her head with her eyes trained out the side window.
After a few minutes, I nod to the bags at her feet. “Shopping?”
Her eyes snap to mine like she’s surprised to hear me speak. Can’t say I blame her. It’s not like I’ve made any effort to start small talk with her the couple times I’ve seen her since she moved home.
“Yes.” She sighs and her body relaxes into the seat. Bullet snuggles in closer to her and a sudden wave of jealousy washes over me. Fuck, I can’t be jealous of my damn dog.
“Please tell me you bought some appropriate shoes.” I mumble just loud enough she can hear me.
“What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“There’s nothing to them. Your feet have to be freezing. Why on earth would you wear shoes like that around here?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I had a job interview this afternoon. I wanted to look my best. Then I had to wait for one of Dad’s prescriptions, so I did some shopping while I waited.”
“How is he? Your dad?” I ask, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead of us.
“Not good. It’s just a matter of time before we’ll have to put him in a facility.”
“Sorry to hear that. He’s a good man. Hate to see him decline like that.”
“Thanks.”
I dare a glance in her direction and she’s smiling down at Bullet while she pets her head. My chest constricts again and I can’t stop myself from rubbing it. I don’t like what this woman is doing to me. It’s strange and uncomfortable.