Page 108 of High Intensity

Like this old 1974 Ford F-100 I fixed up over the winter. It had been sitting in my parents’ barn since my grandpa died over a decade ago. It was the first and the last vehicle he ever bought new, and he kept that truck in mint condition for as long as he could. He left me that truck in his will, and I never once looked at it.

Pa put it in the barn and kept it there all those years, maybe hoping I’d want it one day. He never said anything—Pa doesn’t talk much anyway—but he joined me in that barn and worked with me to get the truck road-worthy.

She’s old, there’s a tear in the bench seat on the driver’s side I still want to fix, and it could use some rust treatment and a newpaint job, but her engine is in prime shape, and I’ve come to love every imperfection.

I turn right to get to my place—a trailer parked on a patch of land bordering Libby Creek—and pass Foxy’s Bar. I used to stop in there all the time, but I haven’t been there in months. It does decent business on the weekends and during the summer months when the RV park is full, but it’s fairly quiet tonight. Not many vehicles in the parking lot.

Wait, is that Doc Richards’ truck?

My foot is already slamming on the brake before my mind processes the information.

Janey Richards. I don’t think the woman likes me much, which is a shame, because she sure as hell has my eye. Just last week she lashed out at me when she was at the ranch dropping off a litter of puppies. I still don’t fucking know what I said wrong, but the snap of fire in her eyes sure got my blood going.

I pull my truck in beside hers and without giving it a second thought, head inside.

That may have been a mistake.

My eyes zoom in on Janey the moment I walk through the door, and I see the surprise in hers when she recognizes me. I start walking toward her table, when I hear a squeal and see a flash of movement from the corner of my eye.

I turn in time to see Britt running in my direction. I barely have a chance to react when she launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips. My hands automatically go to her ass to keep her from falling.

“Hey, handsome! I missed you.”

Then her mouth is on mine, and I realize I should’ve stopped outside and thought this through.

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