Page 2 of Home on the Road

Thank the universe she did not know the truth.

Harry was not wearing his usual baseball cap, so his black hair, which was shaved on the sides and long enough on top to wear in a tail. was visible. His mustache and goatee looked like they needed a trim, and even the cheeks that were usually smooth had a couple days’ stubble growing on them. From where Ziggy stood, his beautiful turquoise eyes appeared tired and his shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. Even so, with his strong features, and the sculpted body of a god, Harry Myles was any gay man’s wet dream.

Ziggy knew from what he had learned over the past months that Harry was headed home after yet another two-week run all over the western United States. He and his brothers owned their own long haul trucking company, and Harry delivered loads around the west while one of his brothers drove the east coast, and the other one ran the business from their family farm in Paola, Kansas. They were no longer farmers, but held onto the land, just in case. Currently, one of their neighbors leased and farmed their property.

After his first few visits, Ziggy never waited for Harry to come in and order. He always ate the same thing and Ziggy could time it so the food came off the grill just as the man walked in.

As soon as the big trucker settled at the counter as far from the door as he could get, Ziggy carried the man’s plate out to him. He kept his head down so the baseball cap he wore hid most of his face. With luck, Harry would not see the bruises on his cheek and around his left eye.

“How did you know?” Harry asked as he did every time he stopped for dinner. His stomach gave a loud grumble.

Ziggy shrugged. “You haven’t changed your order the last six months. Why would you change it today?”

He turned away, pulling his arms in front of him in hopes that Harry would not see the blue-black marks that encircled his wrist and lower arms. But, as usual of late, luck was not on his side.

“Ziggy? What happened?” Harry reached out, but froze with his hand an inch from his bruised arm. “What the fuck? Who do I have to kill?”

****

Harry Myles was beyond tired. He had worked what felt like the longest three weeks of his life, and he was still half a day’s drive from home. Tonight, all he wanted was to cuddle and fuck the cute little cook who looked as delicious as the meals he created, and crash in his truck for the night. Tomorrow morning, he would deliver this load to Kansas City before heading home for some well-deserved downtime.

But instead of delivering his dinner with his usual wink and snarky, flirty conversation, Ziggy barely said a word. He placed the plate in front of Harry and turned away quickly. Which was unusual. Usually, the man sat on a stool on the other side of the counter and drank a chocolate milkshake while Harry ate his meal.

Then he saw dark bruises that nearly covered every inch of skin from Ziggy’s wrists to his elbows. Some were new and others were yellow and looked to be several days or a week old.

He wanted to grab the man’s arm to keep him from walking away, but doing so would add to his pain. When Ziggy did not answer him right away, Harry ran two fingertips up his biceps to his shoulder.

“Answer me, Z-man. Who did this to you?”

Instead of confiding in him, Ziggy shook his head and turned toward the kitchen. Harry thought he saw tears in the man’s eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered before hurrying back into the kitchen.

“He was fine yesterday, but he had the newest ones when I came in this afternoon for my shift,” Sally Jo said softly as she wiped the empty table behind him.

“Do you know who could have done that?”

Sally Jo finished with the table but did not walk away. “My best guess is his stepmother. She’s a mean bitch and has always hated Ziggy, even before his father died. That’s why he became a trucker as soon as he could get his license and a job. To get away from her.”

“He’s a trucker?”

“He was. For almost six years until his dad died. That’s when the ice queen demanded he come home and take over the kitchen. She works him like a slave and I think she beats on him pretty often, but he won’t complain or have her arrested or anything. When I asked him why he doesn’t just walk away and go back to the road, he said it has to do with family honor.”

Rage began to burn in Harry’s belly. “Family honor, hell. If she is hurting him, he needs to get out of here.”

Sally Jo smiled at him. “You talk to him. Maybe he’ll listen to you because he sure won’t listen when I tell him heshould leave before she puts him in the hospital. Or worse.”

“I think I will,” Harry said rising from his seat. “I’ll be back in a minute, so please don’t throw my dinner away, okay?”

“Sure thing, big man,” Sally Jo said, glancing toward the front window. “Better make it quick. She just pulled in, no doubt to empty the cash register before she goes to town for a night of drinks and fucking one man or another.”

Harry nodded as he rose and slipped around the counter and into the kitchen. “Cover for me.”

He did not wait for her response, but ducked into the kitchen just two seconds before the front door opened with a loud jangle of the cowbell.

Looking around the kitchen, he was impressed by how clean it was, especially after a full day of cooking. But Ziggy was nowhere in sight.

Harry opened the walk-in refrigerator, but the man was not in there, either. He headed down the short hall to the back door, but did not see him in the storage pantry, or the small office. Pushing the back door open, he took a step out and looked around.

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