Page 3 of Possessive Trucker

“It’s raining,” is all she says, her face flushing a little harder but worse than that, her eyes moving away from me. I’ve hurt her feelings by stating the obvious, and I feel like I’ve lost some ground before I even know her name.

“Whatcha havin’ Miss?” the nasally high, cheerful voice of Rick the elderly diner owner chimes in, cutting through the space between us like a knife.

My eyes narrow again, letting Rick know he’s picked a bad moment.

“She’s mine,” I hear myself growling.

Rick cocks a brow and she, whoever she is, makes a sound that feels like a knife in my heart.

She’s not impressed by the caveman routine, but I can’t help it. I just want to scoop her up and take her out of this place, get her someplace she deserves.

Home.

“I mean… she’s with me, Rick,” I tell him, softening my tone and creasing a strained smile as he raises both his brows.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Rick murmurs, flipping a menu in front of each of us before he shuffles off, humming to himself and polishing some glasses.

I watch her eyes, they won’t even look at me now. She’s eyeing the exit instead.

“I’m buying,” I hear myself tell her, but when she looks up at me, it’s not the same feeling I have staring back at me anymore.

She’s scared. Tired, and sick of people telling her how it’s gonna be.

She’s been lied to and she’s not about to get hurt again.

I can tell that much.

“No strings,” I tell her. “Just someone who wants to buy you a meal, something warm to drink,” I hear myself telling her.

Her eyes are back on mine, and I can see she wants to trust me, but today, maybe longer has just been one person after another screwing her over.

“You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to,” I lie, feeling the pit in my stomach falling at the thought of her not speaking or worse.

If she leaves here without me.

“I can manage on my own,” she says, unconvincingly. “But thanks for the offer.”

I close my mouth to stop from making a sound. I can’t believe what I just heard, but I can’t force her to do anything either.

She’s studying the menu with trembling hands and I’m sitting stunned, sure I was going to at least be able to make some conversation.

Can’t she feel it? Can’t she feel this thing between us?

After a pained few minutes, she grabs Rick’s attention with a light movement of her hand.

“First cup’s free, right?” she asks, her voice wavering with cold and fatigue. I stifle a groan as Rick grudgingly pours her a coffee, giving me a scornful sideways look.

Chapter Three

Sophie

I know he’s perfect. I know he’d help me in a heartbeat.

I sure as hell know the effect he’s having on my internal workings.

Guess I’m still just edgy that the third person I meet today is gonna burn me like the other two have.

First the job that wasn’t and then the ‘friendly’ hotel manager? Now Mr. Perfect offering to buy me lunch?

I don’t fucking think so. I can’t risk it. He’s hot, sure. But there’s no way, it’s too fishy. Too suspect.

What have you got to lose? You’ve got nowhere to go, no money and one free coffee before you get asked to leave.

It’s stupid of me, I know. But there’s a lot of weirdos in places like this.

A lot of nut jobs.

No matter how handsome.

How strong.

How perfect.

I pretend to keep reading the menu, while my other hand fishes for my phone. I figure I may as well try for the free Wi-Fi before I get turned out.

See if I can’t at least swallow some pride, email dad and have him call me.

He’s gonna be furious, but he’s the only person I know who can…

Help.

He hasn’t stopped looking at me, not for a second.

It’s not a bad, creepy look either. In fact, it’s giving me shivers that match the one from the cold, but it’s about a thousand degrees hotter.

I shudder in a trembling breath, trying to keep my hand steady as I sip my coffee.

Trying to focus on picking up the Wi-Fi signal, I can’t help but let out a small sound, nearly overcome by the man’s presence. His woodsy smell, his huge muscular frame just inches from mine. I have to gasp aloud as his leg touches mine once he shifts himself onto the stool next to me. The charge from him touching me is just too much.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. A low, thick sound that only makes me sorry he hasn’t touched me somewhere else yet.

I can’t… It could never happen…

His huge hand’s next to mine. He puts his cell phone down before hesitating and taking his hand back, leaving the phone.

“If you need to call someone, use this,” he says firmly, my chest thickening at the continuous sound of his voice.

---