Page 7 of Truck You

“I asked you to call me when you arrived. That was at least a two-hour drive.” She lets out an audible huff that’s loud enough to hurt my ear.

“That’s not very far, Mom. Plus, traffic was light. I’m here, checked into my hotel, and will let you know how Saturday goes.”

I lift my eyes to Mac to see if he’s listening to my conversation. If he is, he’s acting like he’s not. I’m not sure I’m ready to tell him therealreason I’m in town. I kind of like him, and I don’t want to chase him off by telling him what I do for a living.

She harrumphs like my words are the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard me say. “What is all that noise I hear in the background? Are you at a bar?”

“Mom! No, I’m not at a bar, and even if I were, it’s not like you can stop me. I’m twenty-five.”

“Then where are you?”

“There’s a festival in town. I checked it out rather than staying in my hotel room. In fact, I should go. I’m in line to get food, and I’m up next.”

“Well, okay, dear. If you’re sure you’re fine.”

“Yes, Mom. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll call you this weekend. Give Dad a hug and kiss for me. Bye!” I hang up before she can say anything else to drag out the conversation. Talking to Mom about my life choices is the last thing on my agenda for the night.

When I look up, Mac is staring at me with a confused look on his face.

“What?” I ask.

“You lied to your mom.”

I sigh. “Yeah. I never would have gotten off the phone with her if I told her the truth.”

“And whatisthe truth?” His eyes roam down my body. The heat of his gaze is so intense, it’s like flames lick my skin.

“Umm.” I nibble on my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t need a mirror to know my cheeks are bright red. “That I’m in line for carnival rides with the first man who hit on me because I think he’s cute.”

His lips turn up in a wicked grin. “You think I’m cute?”

I roll my eyes and give him a playful shove. “You know you’re cute.”

He grabs my hand, wrapping it in his before he holds it close to his chest. “I think you’re cute too, Red.”

My face flames up again, and I drop my head toward the ground. I don’t know if he’s calling me that because of my red hair or for how often he can make me blush.

The line moves, and he tugs me forward. “So, what’ll it be first? The Zipper, Bumper Cars, or the Ferris Wheel?”

“Duh, Bumper Cars. Do you really have to ask?”

His smile widens, and I swear a sparkle lights up his dark eyes. “Something tells me you and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight.”

* * *

“I want the red one!”I yell as I run to grab the bumper car of my choosing. Mac laughs from behind me, walking slowly, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Why the red one?” he asks. “Is it because of your hair or the way you turn bright red when you’re blushing?”

I hide my face from him as I feel my cheeks heat just at the mention of how much I’ve blushed around him tonight. “Neither. I just like red.”

He chuckles as if he knows how much his comment is making me blush again. Apparently, I have no control of my body’s reaction to him.

He climbs into the green car next to me as nothing but little kids, no more than nine or ten years old, pile into the remaining cars.

“How much you want to bet I can beat you around the track?” I ask.

He gives me a challenging stare. “You really want to race with all these kids around?”

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