Racked and Stacked

by Lorelei James

  “Because Kay’s suggestion shocked me, okay? Before I could tell her to get the hell out of my house, I heard the garage door open. I worried that you’d take off before we could straighten this out.”

  “Well, you don’t need to worry. There’s nothing to straighten out. You can date whoever the fuck you want. Now move your ass because I’m leaving.” She started to roll up the window.

  “Goddammit, Riss!”

  She threw it in reverse and maneuvered her way around Jen’s minivan like a NASCAR driver. Then as soon as she hit the road she was gone.

  He yelled, “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs.

  Before he went back inside to grab the keys to his truck so he could chase her down, his sisters raced out of the house.

  They looked scared.

  “Ike?”

  “Are you happy now?” he demanded. “Is it your goal that I should spend all of my years alone? It wasn’t enough that I didn’t date and avoided relationships while I was raising you? Now that I finally found a woman that I’m crazy about, you take it upon yourselves to try and destroy this relationship?”

  “But we’re concerned—”

  “For me? Bullshit. You’re concerned for yourselves. If I’m with her then I won’t be at your beck and call. And FYI? Your claim that ‘we were worried, we hadn’t heard from you in a few days’ is total bullshit too. I don’t have a single missed call from any of you. Not one. No texts either. I can count on one hand the amount of times the three of you have just dropped by my house and it’s only been when you’ve wanted something.”

  “That’s not true!” Jen said.

  “You don’t want it to be true. But it is. And the saddest fucking part of this? The reason you’re all selfish and inconsiderate to anyone’s feelings and lives besides your own is my damn fault. I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to accept that I fucked up.”

  Kay was openly crying. “Ike. Please. Don’t say that.”

  “It’s time I did. I’ve had the worst two years of my life besides the year that Mom died, and not one of you has even noticed. Again, I blame myself, but part of me feared that if I told you the truth about my job and the changes in my life, none of you would care. So rather than face that, I saved face and kept my misery to myself.”

  “You’re wrong. We would’ve been there for you,” Lea said.

  He laughed bitterly. “Right. You can’t be there for me now, can’t accept that I’m the happiest I’ve been in years. You wouldn’t know how to help me when I was broken and in a dark place. And again, that’s my fault. I’ve done everything for you—all of you—so your coping skills amount to letting me deal with the shit sandwich that life sometimes serves up. But no more.” He looked at Jen, then Kay, then Lea. “Don’t make me choose between family and my girlfriend. I’ve picked the three of you over everything since I was eighteen years old. I’m almost forty and the time has come that I choose what makes me happy.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Go home. I’ll be in touch on my time frame, not yours.”

  “Ike. I’m sorry,” Jen said.

  “Me too,” Lea and Kay said at the same time.

  “Good.” He turned and walked away from them without looking back.

  * * *

  Ike grabbed a beer and paced through his house, his mind running in a million directions.

  He waited two hours before he felt calm enough to deal with Riss. Not that she’d been in the wrong; that was why he needed a clear head. Thanks to Lonnie, Ike had prepared himself for Riss to have a mini freak-out after she realized they were in a relationship. Without going into too much detail, Lonnie had indicated that Riss was a master at self-sabotage.

  But her abrupt departure was his fault. He needed to grovel in a big way as well as assure her that he’d stand up for her—for them—from now on.

  When he went to grab his keys, they weren’t on the hook by the door where he’d left them. Weird. He always hung them up first thing.

  But he had been distracted by Riss, so maybe he’d shoved them in a coat pocket.

  Nope.

  They weren’t in the foyer, or his bedroom or his bathroom.

  Nor did he find them in his living room or kitchen. He even checked the ignition in case he’d left them in the truck.

  He had an extra set, but he wanted to know where the hell his regular set was. A niggling suspicion started and he picked up his phone. He texted Riss.

  ME: Were u mad enough to hide my truck keys before u left?

  He didn’t get a response from her for ten minutes.

  RT: Yes.

  Great.

  ME: U wanna tell me where u hid them?

  Twenty minutes went by this time before she texted him back.

  RT: Not really.

  Stay calm. He tried to call her, but she wouldn’t pick up.

  ME: Riss. Please tell me where they r so I can come over and we can talk.

  RT: I don’t want to see u that’s why I hid ur keys. Besides I’m not @home.

  ME: Where r u?

  RT: Family time w/my bros.

  Yeah, he was not gonna face the wrath of the Thorpe brothers today.

  ME: Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow. Where r my keys?

  RT: Same place as our relationship. I put them on ice.

  Jesus. Seriously? Ike opened the freezer and saw his keys on top of the ice cream.

  ME: Thank u. Have a good night. I miss u

  An hour passed and Ike knew he wouldn’t hear from her again.

  But that gave him plenty of time to plan his next move.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Tito canceled Riss’s run with the newbie driver the next morning. But she couldn’t make herself go home. So Tito put her on the clock as an hourly employee—beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to earning a paycheck.

  She cleaned the office and the bathrooms. She filed paperwork. Made a list of supplies. Answered the phone and looked longingly at the comfy chair where Dianne the dispatcher usually sat.

  Being a dispatch operator for a trucking company wasn’t an easy gig. Some dispatchers had a god complex—they could give you jobs or take them away. With smaller outfits like Tito’s, there was no forced dispatch, meaning Riss could turn down a load. And Tito worked closely with Dianne so she didn’t have all the power, like with the larger companies, where if you pissed off your assigned dispatcher, you’d find yourself at the bottom of the pecking order.

  Tito specialized in short hauls. Most of his drivers had two or three overnight trips a month and could be home with their families at night. Although Tito had been a driver for thirty years, he’d only been running his small, independent company for five years. He claimed he was too old to have huge ambitions to take on tons of clients. But he kept the door open and new clients seemed to find him. Since supply and demand didn’t take weekends off, neither did Tito’s drivers. And since Riss didn’t have a family with a spouse and kids, she preferred to take the Friday, Saturday and Sunday runs. The pay was slightly higher, which meant she could afford to take two weekdays off for the dedicated runs for Desert Plains.

  Or that was how it used to work. She wasn’t sure how much longer Tito could hold off on hiring a replacement driver. Riss had seen the stack of applications—those were just the ones drivers sent in, not an open call to fill a specific position.

  “I hate to waste your talents doin’ office work, but damn, girl, the place always shines when you get done with it. Dianne doesn’t do nothin’ except sit behind them glassed walls.”

  “She has a dedicated position and she’s never had to adapt to anything else.”

  “Is that what you’re doin’?”

  “Yep. I appreciate you keepin’ me on, even when I know any day you might change your mind. As much as it’s gonna suck, T, I want you to know I won’t blame you. Business is business
.”

  Tito sighed. “That’s why I adore you, Red. And that’s why you’ll land on your feet no matter what.”

  “Thanks.”

  He pointed at her cast. “How much longer?”

  “I’ve had the cast on six weeks. The doc indicated it’d be on the full eight weeks, maybe twelve. I guess my bones are brittle for my age, which I never considered. So I’ve been takin’ calcium supplements.”

  “Any idea about what rehab entails?”

  “Not until the cast is off for good.”

  The phone rang and Tito toddled off to answer it.

  Someone pressed the buzzer to the delivery door, which was odd since most everyone just walked into the shop. Riss wandered over and pushed on the bar that opened the door. She said, “Come on in, you don’t need a formal invite,” before she looked up to see who it was.

  Ike stood framed in the doorway.

  Riss was so stunned it took a moment to notice that he held a bouquet of flowers.

  “If I don’t need a formal invite, can I come in before these freeze?”

  “Ah. Yeah. Sure.” She stepped aside. And Ike had her crowded against the wall before the door slammed shut.

  “Is there someplace we can talk?”

  “I am workin’, Ike.”

  He didn’t glance around the empty garage and say, “Workin’ on what?” He just retreated. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. What time do you get done? I can come back. Or I can meet you someplace. Whatever works best for you.”

  His willingness to compromise and his eagerness to fix what happened the day before . . . how was she supposed to maintain a bitch-on-wheels attitude when faced with that? She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. “It’s close to quitting time and the dispatcher is off today so we can use her office.” She heard Tito yakking on the phone as they crossed the concrete floor in silence.

  Once inside, she left the office door open.

  Ike set the flowers on the desk.

  She intended to put the desk between them, but Ike had other ideas. His cold hands framed her face. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I handled it all wrong.”

  “With your sisters?”

  He snorted. “It’s obvious I’ve been handling things wrong with them for years. And that means I didn’t do right by you. For that I’m truly sorry.”

  Riss waited for him to tack on an excuse or an explanation, but he didn’t.

  “Riss. Say something.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Umm . . . I guess. I’ve never had a girlfriend so I don’t know if I’m doin’ this groveling thing right.”

  “Well, I’ve never had a guy grovel or bring me flowers so I’m kind of at a loss what to do next too.”

  “So let’s do what’s familiar to us.” He dropped his hands from her face and stepped back. “C’mere. I need a damn hug.”

  She laughed and was in his arms in the next heartbeat. She buried her face in his neck, searching for the scents she associated with him, the icy cold of winter, the warmth of wool and clean tang of his laundry detergent mixed with his aftershave.

  “Baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

  “I know. I am too. I shouldn’t have stormed off and hidden your keys.”

  “You shouldn’t have answered the damn door.”

  “If you would’ve crawled in your bed with me like I suggested . . .”

  “Good point. Another mistake I’ll never make again.” His lips trailed soft kisses down her hairline, stopping at her ear. “How is it that we’ve only had one date and I already feel like you know me better than anyone?”

  Her heart turned over. “I don’t know, but now I don’t feel like an idiot asking you the same question.”

  “I dreamed of you last night,” he whispered. “Of your body twined around mine. Skin to skin as I was buried balls deep in you.” He nuzzled the skin below her ear. “We weren’t moving. We weren’t sweaty and frantic driving each other higher as we tried to get off. We were just as close as a man and woman can be. Lost in all the perfect ways we fit together.”

  “Ike.”

  “I woke up and you weren’t there. And if I really concentrated I could still catch a whiff of your scent on my skin. But I didn’t want the phantom scent of you, Riss. I wanted the real you. The you that only I get to see.”

  “I’d dismiss that as just another one of your smooth-talkin’ lines, but I know you now. You are as overwhelmed by this as I am.”

  “Yes. So come over tonight. Or I’ll come to you.”

  “So we can come together,” she teased.

  He groaned. “If you’re tryin’ to get me hard, Larissa, it’s workin’.”

  She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “You wanna level the playing field, kiss me. Your kisses make me wet.”

  Ike’s growl rumbled against her lips and he brought his mouth down on hers. Then they were kissing like crazy. Hands didn’t wander. Their bodies didn’t grind together. Their focus was solely on this moment between them that had changed everything. This passionate connection was just a bonus.

  “What in the hell is goin’ on in here?”

  Tito’s bellowing broke the spell. Riss’s entire body, which had been flushed with arousal, now went flaming hot with embarrassment.

  Ike kept a firm grip on her with one hand even when he turned to face Tito. “Hello, sir. You must be Tito. I’m Ike Palmer.”

  “Red, is his black eye your doin’?”

  “Accidentally. I’m about as graceful with this cast as I am with a club.” She bumped Ike’s hip with hers. “Ike here was my cranky male nurse and is now my boyfriend. Ike, this is Tito, my boss and ruler of this trucking empire.”

  Tito rolled his eyes, but he did finally offer Ike his hand. “Ike, is it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So you decided you’d have a better chance with the beast when she’s minus a working arm?”

  Ike smiled. “You might say that. I’m just happy she’s givin’ me a chance at all.”

  “Smart man.” Tito motioned to the flowers. “You already get yourself into the doghouse?”

  Riss expected Ike to hedge. But he didn’t.

  “Yep. So I’m sorry if me stopping by during working hours is breaking some kind of company rule.”

  “Only if you’re breaking her rule. But that lip-lock indicated that wasn’t the case.”

  Tito looked at Riss. “Marlon just called.”

  “What’d he want?”

  “To know when you’d be back to work. He’s got a load of pieces he just finished they’re waiting for in Omaha. His son took his last delivery and showed up with four broken sections. So he had to bring back the broken pieces, Marlon had to fix them and now he’s got twice the load size, which means the dry box his son borrowed ain’t big enough.”

  Riss held up her cast. “Tito. I’m sorry. There’s nothin’ I can do. If you have to assign Jerry or Dickie, then I understand. But I can’t even drive an automatic transmission, so no solo runs.”

  “Too bad. There’s a two-thousand-dollar bonus for the driver if the statues are delivered by Friday.”

  That was when a lightbulb went off in Riss’s head.

  No solo runs, but she could team up with someone.

  She blurted out, “Ike has a CDL.”

  Ike looked at Riss as if she’d lost her mind. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  But Tito saw the same potential solution that Riss had: she and Ike could partner up. “You have a CDL,” Tito said. “Current?”

  “Yeah. Class A. But the truth is I’ve not driven much since my last renewal and DOT physical.”

  He cocked his head at Ike. “You ain’t pulling my leg, right?”

  “No, sir. I spent over a dozen years as a cattle broker. Set up more than m
y fair share of loads. And even had to drive bull hauler myself a time or twenty. Why?”

  “We could take the run,” Riss said excitedly. “You and me. Co-drivers. You’d drive and I’d co-pilot.” She looked at Tito. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Red.”

  “But Ike has drivin’ experience. You keep Marlon happy and I get a paycheck—that I’d be happy to split with my co-driver.”

  Again, Ike stared at her as if she’d gone plumb mad. “You’d trust me to go on a run with you? You’d be happy ridin’ shotgun?”

  “Not happy. I’m always gonna want to be behind the wheel.” She squeezed his biceps. “But I’ve convoyed with you when we were hauling rodeo stock and I’ve recently ridden with you. I know you’re beyond competent behind the wheel. I trust you.”

  “That testimonial is a good enough job recommendation for me,” Tito said.

  “What’s this Marlon guy manufacture?” Ike asked.

  “He casts concrete. Everything from angels for gravesites to birdbaths to garden benches. He’s contracted to a garden center distributor in Omaha and it’s his busy season.”

  “What kinda rig do you drive for something like that?”

  “One with really great air shocks because that concrete weighs a fuck ton,” Riss said.

  “Meaning what class?”

  “Usually class 7 flatbed trailer. Since the concrete pieces are built to be used in the elements, keeping them covered from the weather ain’t a factor. The bonus is the pieces are loaded inside with a forklift and unloaded inside with a forklift.”

  Tito’s eyes narrowed at Ike. “Do you have experience with a flatbed?”

  Ike scratched his chin. “What’s the full length with the semi?”

  “Around the fifty-three foot maximum.”

  “How long is the JSC cattle pot?” Riss asked Ike.

  “In the forty-foot range.” Ike exhaled. “So to be honest, I’d need drivin’ time to get used to the extra length.”

  “I’d be happy to go out with you,” Tito said. “I spent many years on the road with my girl and I can share how to handle her quirks and the tricks that make her purr.”