Page 67 of Truck Off

“Here.” I hand it to her. “Use as much as you need. Got plenty.”

“Thanks.” She nods toward the bus. “Someone can’t seem to take her eyes off you. Then again, what woman could with the shower show you just put on for us?”

Instead of turning back to the bus, my eyes snap to Karla. “Shower show?”

She snorts. “Oh, come on. Don’t act dumb. You know you look damn good shirtless and covered in grease like a bad boy hot mechanic. Add in the spray of water, and it’s every girl’s fantasy.” She looks past me, and her smile turns teasing. “I’d say that’s especially true for Lina.”

I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, Lina is staring at me with a look on her face I can’t quite decipher. Is she pissed off or turned on? Maybe a little of both.

“I think she’s jealous.” Karla adds.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Me,” she says with a cheerfulness to her tone.

I frown. “Why would she be jealous of you? We’re not together. Hell, we’re not even flirting.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She shrugs. “You’re spending time with me. Shirtless, I might add. It also doesn’t help that I’m close enough to touch those strong hard muscles that she hasn’t been able to keep her eyes off of. She’s fighting it, but that girl has it bad.”

That spark of hope that I’ve been fighting to hang onto intensifies. Nothing would make me happier than to know with certainty that Lina wants me.

I glance back and she’s still watching us, only this time her eyes look dazed and unfocused. Maybe even a little hurt.

Well, shit. I don’t want to hurt her. Jealousy means she cares, but pain? That’s not something I want any part of.

But then she rubs her temples and squeezes her eyes closed. I study her for a moment. Even in the shadows of the bus, I can tell she looks pale and there’s a tenseness to the way she’s carrying herself.

Maybe that hurt I see has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that she’s hiding something.

“Come on.” I pat Karla’s arm. “Let’s eat before we lose the afternoon. I want to get those spark plugs in before we call it a day.”

Rather than sitting around the picnic table that’s in the full sun, we gather around a large oak tree in the nearby field. The shade is a welcome treat after standing in the sun all morning.

Clara, Trevor, and Karla start in on some drama that’s going on at the school. Something involving the boy’s baseball coach and two cheerleaders. They’re talking in code so as not to outright say what the coach did, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it wasn’t good.

Sounds like someone might be going to jail. It also leaves a gaping hole in the coaching staff following a winning year. The boy’s baseball team won state last year. Nobody wants to follow up a year like that with a scandal.

Lina settles into a shaded area just across from me. I study her while she’s busy opening the small bag in her hands. She’s definitely not feeling like herself. She’s always frowning, but there’s something different about the way her brows are drawn together today. There’s tension there that typically isn’t visible.

I shift my gaze to the bag in her hands. It’s a snack sized bag of peanuts—the cheap kind you buy at the gas station when you need a quick snack. The only other thing I see with her is a bottle of root beer.

“Is that all you brought to eat?” I ask.

Her eyes snap to mine. Her expression causes my entire body to tense. She’s not scowling or glaring at me like I’ve come to expect. She’s in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I push.

“Nothing.” Her voice is low and soft and so unlike my Grumps. “I’m just not that hungry.”

“We’ve been working for a few hours. How can you not be hungry?”

She shrugs but doesn’t answer me. Instead, she slowly eats one peanut at a time like she’s trying to make them last.

I open my lunch box and grab one of the two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I made. Then I set one on her knee. “Eat this.”

This time, anger flashes in her eyes when she looks at me. “I’m not taking your lunch.”

“No, you’re not.” I state matter-of-factly. “I made two sandwiches. Plus, I have chips and fruit.” I open the container of cut up pineapple and orange slices and set it between us. “I have more than I can eat. It’s called sharing.”

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