Page 54 of Plentywood
“Was I speeding?” he asked. He gestured toward the dash. “The thingy that tells you how fast you’re going doesn’t seem to work on this truck.”
“The speedometer?” I asked. “Thethingythat the law requires works when sold as a used vehicle? That thingy?”
He looked lost as he sat there. Defeated was a better descriptor. “I don’t know why I bought this,” he admitted. “I must look ridiculous in a truck.”
“You look cute is what you look,” I said, shocked I went with my first thought.
“Cute?”
“Yep. Cute!” I exclaimed. “Your smaller build in this big four-wheel drive. The fancy clothing, and perfectly styled hair. Yep! Totally not the typical pickup driver, but definitely cute.”
“Are you okay, sheriff?” he inquired, staring at me as I did my best to act normal.
I was committed to being more open and more likable from now on. Jill had suggested I try that approach after several beers. I was surprised her idea had resonated with me, but here I was, sober, trying to be more likable.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know that you’re cute, doc. You’re all the town can talk about and it’s already been a month,” I stated. “I think after a month, it becomes official.”
The look on his face convinced me he was unsure where the real sheriff was. I wondered if I could keep up the cheerful demeanor. I wasn’t really an asshole like the past couple of years indicated, but I had gone adrift from being warm and sociable. I knew it was true and hoped to try harder.
“You look different,” he said. “The baseball cap and the… the…”
“Approachable appeal?” I interrupted.
Thankfully, he laughed at my joke. “Yeah. That too.” I nervously looked away, noticing his front tire was nearly flat. “Looks like you’re about to have a flat tire.”
“No!” he exclaimed.
He jumped out of the truck. Normally ano-nowhen being stopped by law enforcement and squatted by the deflating tire. A man like Ben looked completely helpless when they attempted to survey a motor vehicle’s issues. His perfectly manicured fingernails tapped on the top of the tire, and as soon as he realized the tire was dirty, he flinched and examined his fingertips.
“Doesn’t look good, doc,” I offered good humoredly. “We don’t haveAAAout in the boondocks,” I added.
He stood and faced me. “Triple what?” he asked. “Is that a brand of wheels?”
“Never mind.”
He brushed past me and looked in the bed of his truck. “Where is it?” he asked, glancing around like a tire might just roll up to the edge of the road. “Don’t cars come with extra wheels?”
I leaned against the truck, enjoying the scene so very much. Ben got cuter by the second and I planned on milking this for as long as I possibly could. “Are you looking for a spare tire?” I asked. “Or a wheel? And this is a truck, not a car, doc.”
Ben crossed his arms and gave me a look that I’d been on the receiving end of many times in the past. Mark hated when I did this, and apparently, so did Ben.
“Don’t be so mean, sheriff,” he said, uncrossing his arms and checking his watch. “I just dropped Charlie off and now I’ll need his help.”
“Doing?”
“Changing that goddamned wheel,” he replied. “I don’t know about things like wheels. Fuck!” he fumed. “Why’d I buy this thing?”
I smiled at him, which only seemed to infuriate him more. “I’m sorry, Ben. But I happen to think that you made a very smart decision with this purchase,” I began. “Winter is coming in a few months, and trust me, you’ll need the four-wheel-drive capabilities of this vehicle.”
“That’s what Charlie said,” he muttered.
I won’t lie; hearing him mention Charlie again did nothing for my likability routine. I hated that he’d just spent the past day with him. And overnight, doing God knows what. But Jill had suggested being likable, helpful, friendly, the usual Hunter type personality traits, and that all of it would come back… eventually.
I pushed Charlie from my thoughts. “You’re not going to like this, doc, but how about we slowly hobble a mile back to my place and I show you how to change a flat tire?” I suggested. “I’ll even show you where the spare is located.”
He looked at me as he decided what part of my idea he liked or didn’t like. “The spare isn’t in the trunk?”
I bit my tongue immediately. No sense in laughing about how incredibly cute he was. “You don’t actually have a trunk in this vehicle,” I said. “It’d be nice, I bet, but you don’t.”
