Page 32 of Truck You

“Oh, I don’t know?” Clara’s sweet, teasing voice cuts through the tension building between us. “Maybe because you two looked like you’re about to have a tongue war. I could be wrong, but most people prefer to do that in private.”

“Clara!” I gasp. “When did you get here?”

She gives me a sheepish smile and shrugs. “Just before you two started your little face-off.”

“Hey, bestie.” Ash slides up next to Clara and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

She adjusts her glasses as she looks up at Mac. “Planning period before my lunch break. I don’t have class again until one.”

“Class?” I ask, realizing I have no clue what Clara does for a living.

“I teach high school English.”

“Oh.” A slow smile spreads across my face. “That’s very fitting.”

I don’t know Clara that well, but being an English teacher seems like the perfect job for her. I can easily see her standing in front of a class talking about her favorite books or instructing them on how to structure the perfect term paper. Plus, she’s got that sexy librarian look about her.

She gives me an awkward smile and pushes her glasses back up her nose. She suddenly seems nervous and all the playfulness from a moment ago is gone. “Um, I wanted to ask … Um, do you want to grab lunch?”

She says it so fast that her words run together. She averts her eyes like she’s nervous about my response. Her confidence was evident when I first noticed her, but now she seems shy and unsure of herself.

“I’d love to,” Ash says, his smile growing wide. “Give me a minute to clean up.”

“Not you, you goof.” Clara pokes him in the side and he jumps back. “I’m asking Sophia.”

Ash presses his hand to his heart like he’s hurt. “What? You mean you’re not here to see me?”

Clara laughs and pats his arm. Ash’s playfulness seems to relax her. “Sorry, not this time. But I’ll bring you something back.”

Ash’s smile grows, and he kisses Clara’s cheek. She lets out a soft sigh that I don’t think Ash notices. “That’d be awesome. I’ll take a footer with sauce and mustard.”

“You got it.” She pats his chest. “How about you, Christian? Do you want something?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

He gives her a small smile, and I think it’s the first I’ve seen since I started working here. “I’ll take a cheeseburger and some onion rings then.”

“Oh, I want some onion rings too.” Ash adds.

Then she turns her friendly, slightly more confident smile on me. “So, what do you say? Lunch?”

“I’d love to.” I turn my smile on Mac. “That is if Mr. Sentinel here says it’s okay.”

Mac’s frown deepens. “Why would I care?”

I snort-laugh and shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been watching my every move like a hawk. Heaven forbid I step out of line and injure your sense of trustworthiness.”

Mac’s stare hardens, and his hands clench into fists at his side. Then he shakes his head like he’s trying to clear his mind of all thoughts, turns on his heel, and walks away.

I turn a victory smile to Clara. “That’s a definite yes to lunch.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later,we’re passing a large hand-painted sign that saysWelcome to the Village of Beaver. It even has a smiling beaver painted on one side.

I’ve passed by so many of these little villages while traveling to races, but I’ve never actually stopped in one before. There’s never much to them—a few buildings and houses, maybe a gas station or small family-owned market.

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