“You ready to get going?” I asked as I turned to her. I wanted to take her to the club, get lunch and soak up each and every second I got with her. I didn’t care about the money. I didn’t care about anything else. Not when she was with me.
“Sure,” she said as she shifted away from me. I wasn’t having it. Not now. I grabbed her and pulled her to me, her body soft and pliable against my rock solid frame. I loved the way she felt when she touched me. I lived for it.
“Not so far away, darlin’.” I barely whispered the words but they lit a fire in both of us. One that I could see in her eyes. We were already fighting so much sexual tension that it was hard to breathe in the cab of my truck, let alone touch.
She cleared her throat. “Maybe I should just sit on the other side of the cab,” she said.
What was she thinking? I could see her drifting away from me and I wasn’t going to have it. Not now. Not when I’d bared my soul to her.
“I don’t think so,” I said as I held her close. I’d just turned down one long and winding road to another. We had a bit of a ride back and I wanted to enjoy every single second of it with her.
Even the one where my tire blew and I had to grab both hands with the wheel and hope we didn’t fly into a ditch.
I gained control of the truck easily enough, the bouncing and rumbling of it on the backcountry road forcing me to break hard. We ended up at a complete and total stop, both of us breathing hard.
“Dammit,” I said. I didn’t need a flat tire. Not now. I was pissed. I threw the truck into the park and slammed the door open. “Damn tire. Damn thing.”
I threw out of the truck and looked at the damage. It wasn’t anything important. Nothing wrong with the rim, just with tire itself. I had a spare up under the truck, it would be an easy change, but by the time I was done I was going to be muddy as hell.
The roads were wet and muddy and I’d be laying on it. I had to in order to get the spare. So I sighed and I kicked the damn tire and I grabbed the toolkit out of the back of my truck. I was cursing under my breath the entire time as I slid under the truck and started unscrewing each of the lug nuts. I was swearing the whole time under my breath too, not paying attention like I should’ve and the socket wrench slipped slamming my damn hand right into the metal.
I yelped with the sting of it then pushed it away from me. Fucking thing.
I rolled the tire with one hand and carted the jack with the other. I wasn’t about to ask Rose for help, she was still wearing her work clothing. No, this was going to be messy as hell, but fuck it.
I was already covered in mud. It was simple enough, changing a tire, so I got down and put the jack under the frame. The passenger side door opened and she stepped out.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
I could see her ankles from my view, those long supple legs making thoughts of her run through my mind.
I completely forgot what I was doing.
“What?” I asked as I looked up. Damn, she was even prettier from this angle, the light framing her curves in all the right ways.
“I asked if you need some help?” she asked again.
I was distracted enough to let go of he tire and watch it roll down the little hill into a field.
“Dammit,” I said as I stood up.
“Ew, you are covered in mud!” She exclaimed as she jumped back. I grinned at her.
“Oh, afraid of a little mud, are you?” I wiped from some from the shirt on my back and lunged at her in a quick second dabbing it right on her nose.
She laughed and dodged me but I saw too fast. Too strong. I had her in my arms in an instant. We were both hot, tense.
“Wyatt,” she said, her breath hitched as she looked into my eyes. “Don’t you have a tire to change?”
I didn’t care about that. About any of it. Not right now. So I scooped her up and walked her towards the back of the truck, putting my tailgate down. None of that mattered.
“I’ll deal with it later,” I said as I shucked off my muddy shirt. The ground may have been wet, but my truck bed was nice and dry.
I kissed her and grabbed a blanket out of a box I kept in the bed. I’d spent more than one night in it. Camping, on fishing trips. With women.
But Rose was special.
She always was.
He reached up with a clean piece of his shirt and wiped that little smudge of dirt off my nose.
“Can’t have you dirty, now can we?” he asked. He was right. I didn’t want to be covered in mud.
But I wanted to be dirty with him.
“Wyatt,” I said softly, but he hushed me, grabbing my blouse and pulling it up over my head.
“I don’t want to talk about right and wrong. I don’t want to debate about what we should or shouldn’t do, Rose. I want you. I want you here and now.” I could see that he meant the words and I was tempted to be quiet, but we were out in the open.