Page 12 of War

I gestured to the big four-door black truck in the middle of the parking lot. “I drive that truck.”

A hesitant look crossed Amantha's face. “Maybe we should take my car.” She gestured to the blue car sitting near the door.

I frowned. “Why?” It was a newer truck. There was no rust. There wasn't even mud on it. What was the problem?

“Even without my ankle injury, I'm short. I don't know if I can climb in there.”

Oh. I laughed. “Don't worry. Head over there.”

Amantha gave me a skeptical look but wheeled across the parking lot.

I opened the passenger door as she positioned her chair to climb out. She locked the wheels.

Amantha looked at the running boards and the higher seat. “I don't know about this,” she said.

I smiled. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I really don't think I can cli...”

I scooped her into my arms and lifted her into the passenger seat.

Damn, she smelled good. I inhaled her berry scent.

Her mouth fell open, and she gaped at me as I settled her into the passenger seat. I guess lifting her was a surprise.

I winked and said, “I told you to trust me.” I slid my arms from around her. “Put your seatbelt on.”

I closed the door and turned to her wheelchair. I'd never done this before so I'd have to figure it out. After a minute of fiddling with it, I finally got the chair folded and loaded into the back of my truck.

I rounded the truck to the driver's side and climbed into the driver's seat.

My eyes trailed over her. She looked right in my truck. “You good?” I asked.

She smiled softly. “Yeah.”

I put on my seatbelt and checked that she wore hers, then I started the engine. Quickly, I turned the volume down when music blasted from the stereo. “Sorry.” I shot her an apologetic look. “What do you feel like eating?”

Adjusting my focus to our surroundings, I shifted the truck to drive and steered out of the parking lot.

”Chinese?” she asked.

I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

I pulled onto the main road.

“Were you at physical therapy last night?” I asked.

“Nice guess. I was. I found a therapist that does evening appointments so I can work during the day and attend therapy afterward. Twice a week.”

I nodded. “Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Yes. I need the days in between to recover.” She laughed. “It's really helped to keep a positive attitude with everything that's happened. I've tried to keep life relatively the same.”

“Have you succeeded?”

“I think so. I attend concerts and go where I want. Not much is different.”

A grin crossed my face. I had to tease her. “Is this going to impact your skydiving?”