There was a small table with a bench on each side where she’d strapped in Maggie. It looked like the table possibly folded under as a bed pulled down from the wall.
“I like these blue lights that frame the sink, stove and fridge,” she called out to him. “I can’t believe what you have back here. It’s amazing.”
“Did you see the flat screen TV? I also have satellite.”
“I never knew this was possible to have all this inside a truck. It’s like a small hotel room back here.”
“I just got this truck a few months ago. It’s a Peterbilt Super Sleeper with all the top of the line extras.”
“Really? Wow. It’s nice.”
Thankfully, little Maggie was sleeping soundly in her new car seat, sucking her thumb. It wasn’t an easy task to clean up the place since Cal had so many useless items in all the storage areas. Especially those dirty magazines she found tucked under the clothes in one of the drawers. There was a closet with his clothes on huggie-type hangers, and so she hung her clothes up as well and stuck the suitcase in the bottom of the closet.
Not liking the fact there were dirty magazines there, she promptly deposited them at the bottom of the garbage pail lining, under several stinky diapers. Chuckling to herself, she gave a small nod of approval and brushed off her hands.
“What’s so funny?” he asked curiously from the front seat.
“Are you talking to me?” she asked innocently, making her way to the front, holding on to the seat and poking her head around to see him. Burrito was stretched out on the passenger seat with his eyes closed.
Cal glanced over to the dog and frowned. “Yes, you. I’m not talking to the dog. He’s fast asleep. Besides, he very rarely laughs, not even at my best jokes.”
“Oh,” she answered with a giggle, amused by his sense of humor. “Cal, I’d like to sit up front with you,” she told him, once again eyeing up the dog.
“Go ahead.” He was the one to chuckle now. “However, I’m not the one who’s going to break the news to Burrito. This time of day, he likes to take his beauty nap in the sunshine coming in through the windshield.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, not sure how to answer to something like that.
“Actually, you might want to stay in the back with Maggie. You’d be bored up here since there’s nothing much to see.”
“Cal,” she said, not liking him brushing her off. “There is nothing in our agreement that says the dog rides shotgun. Now, once again, I’d like to sit up front for a while.”
“I didn’t think I needed to put that into our agreement, but now I see that maybe I should have.” He picked up his covered metal coffee cup and took a sip and then made a face. “You took so long in the store that my coffee is already cold.” He was looking down at the cup and not at the road. When Tuesday glanced out the front window, she saw a small car next to them swerving into their lane.
“Watch out!” she cried, causing him to have a knee-jerk reaction. He dropped the cup on the floor, grabbed the wheel with both hands and steered into the next lane to avoid hitting the car. Then he laid on the air horn and cursed loudly at the driver as the woman passed by. “Damned women drivers!”
Tuesday raised her hands to cover her ears, lost her balance, and ended up falling right onto Cal’s lap.
“Oh!” she said as she fell across his lap, face down. The air whooshed from her lungs.
“Twiggy, what are you doing?” he asked in surprise. Her head came up but he pushed it back down with one hand. “Keep your head down, I can’t see. I’m merging with traffic and can’t have your hair in my face.”
She felt embarrassed and extremely awkward, sprawled out and pushed up against him as he drove. Right now, she wasn’t even sure how to remove herself from this situation.
Then Maggie started crying.
“Oh, that’s just great,” said Cal, looking in his side mirror and weaving in and out of traffic.
“Now you did it,” she told him. “That loud horn woke up the baby.”
“Get off my lap.”
“My pleasure.” She managed to push herself up, having to use one hand against the door and the other against his upper thigh as she scooted off of him, struggling to stand, looking back at the baby.
Cal groaned inwardly when Twiggy put her hand so close to his groin and stuck her butt cheeks up in the air. My pleasure, she’d told Cal, but Cal believed the pleasure to be all his right now. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, making him feel heady. Then the swells of her breasts had brushed across his chest as she stood. As angry as he was with her right now, he could think of nothing other than kissing her! Egads, what was his problem? He didn’t even like the girl. Did he?
Ever since Tuesday Twaggard had set foot inside his rig, they’d done nothing but argue. But oddly enough, every time she got near him, he couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. Again. But really kiss her this time, not just that pathetic peck on the lips he’d given her years ago as part of the dare. Her quick kiss on the cheek in the store earlier was probably what put him in this tailspin and he wasn’t coming out of it anytime soon. He looked down to see the bulge in his pants again. Just thinking about this new bombshell image that Twiggy presented was making him hard.
“There, there, sweetie,” cooed Twiggy’s gentle voice from behind him. “Just stick this back in your mouth and suck on it and it’ll make you happy.”
His eyes opened wide and his thoughts ran rampant. Damn, why did she have to say that? He cleared his throat and spoke to her over his shoulder. “Uh, what’s going on back there?” he asked, waiting for her answer.
“Maggie’s asleep again, and sucking her thumb,” she said, coming back to join him.
“Oh.” Suddenly, he felt foolish. “Her thumb, of course.” All thoughts of Twiggy on his lap with her face near his erection suddenly left him.
“Cal, are you going to tell the dog to let me sit down or not?”
“Yeah, sure.” He cleared his throat and his eyes glanced down to his groin again. Damn, he needed to control himself. He was acting like nothing more than a hormonal teenager. “Burrito, go on in back with Maggie. Let Twiggy sit here before she ends up in my lap again.”
The dog had its nose between its paws and looked up with sad eyes and whined.
“Go on,” he commanded. “It’s only going to be for a few days and then things will be back to normal again, I promise.”
The dog got up, stretched, and brushed past Tuesday, making its way to the bench seat by the table in the back where he jumped up and curled up right next to the baby.
“I hope Burrito won’t hurt her,” worried Tuesday, quickly brushing the dog hair off the seat and then plopping down and fastening her seat belt.
“Burrito is more bark than bite,” he said jokingly, thinking it was going to calm her.
“He bites?” Her head snapped around and she craned her neck to see the baby. “Maybe it’s best if I stay in back with Maggie after all.” She reached for her seat belt, and his hand shot out to stop her.
“All this shifting around is unnerving. The dog won’t harm Maggie and she is actually quiet for once, so don’t you dare move.”
“Okay,” she said, seeming as if she were biting her tongue, wanting to comment but she didn’t.
“What are all these gadgets and buttons for?” she asked, reaching out for the dash.
“Don’t touch anything,” he said, causing her hand to lower back to her lap. She looked out the closed window, using the sleeve of her sweater, making circles on the glass.
“Burrito slobbered on the window,” she told him. “Do you have something I can clean it with?”
“It’s fine. Just leave it. It’s his window and he likes it that way.”
She let out a sigh and stopped wiping the window. Then after a few minutes of awkward silence, she spoke. “Wait until you see how clean the sleeper compartment is right now. It’s all organized and everything has its place.”
“Organized?” He groaned. “Oh hell, don’t tell me you moved my things around. I’ll never be able to find anything again.”
“I had to do it in order to make it all fit and still have room to move,” she defended her actions. “It was messy.”
“I like mess. At least I know right where everything is. Now I won’t be able to find a damned thing.”
“Shh,” she scolded with her finger to her lips and she looked back at the baby. “I don’t want you to wake her. Plus, you’ve got to stop cursing around your daughter or you’ll be a bad influence. If you need something and can’t find it, just ask me and I’ll tell you where it is.”
“She’s my niece, not my daughter,” he corrected her, feeling unnerved to even think of himself as a father. It surely was the last thing he needed or wanted in his life right now. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep draw.
“You’re the baby’s guardian, and the only one she has,” Twiggy told him. “I’d say that pretty much makes you her daddy.”
“But I’m not,” he said, starting to suddenly feel panicked, taking another puff.
“You’re smoking?” she asked, obviously not approving of it. “Secondhand smoke is bad for babies.”
He figured it was easier just to put out the cigarette than to listen to her be so overprotective. “Is there anything you do approve of?” he mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Cal, what are you going to do with Maggie once you get back to Texas?” she asked, already making him wish she hadn’t asked that question. He didn’t have an answer, and was wondering the same thing himself.
“Let’s just deal with one thing at a time.”
“Well, it’s something you’re going to have to think about,” she continued to badger him. “You need to start making plans for Maggie’s future. What are they?”
Hell, if he knew. He didn’t even have plans past today for his own future. Cal Reeves was a loner and liked his solitude. He also liked to live one day at a time and didn’t want to be pressured into making plans for the rest of his life. That was too much stress for him.
“I can’t talk about that now,” he told her. “I need to keep my attention on the road.”
“Why?” she asked. “There isn’t that much traffic and we’re in a wooded area. I thought you’d be able to drive and talk at the same time . . . being that this is the way you make your living.”
“Of course I can drive and talk,” he answered. “But maybe I just don’t want to talk right now. I need a few minutes of peace and quiet.”
“Oh. I see.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked out the drool-covered window. “Is it just me you don’t want to talk to? Like that night you took me to the prom and all but ignored me the entire night?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, not wanting to tread these turbulent waters.
“Maybe your friends should have upped the price of the dare if you actually talked to me as well as kissed me.”
Cal could have died just then. So she knew all about the dare. He was somehow hoping she’d never found out because the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt the poor, innocent woman. He’d made a bad call years ago, and now it was coming back to haunt him.
The air was so thick between them now that Cal could have cut it with a knife. He couldn’t just ignore that comment but, on the other hand, he had no idea what to say to make up for his horrible mistake. No matter what he said, this was already proving to be the trip from hell.
“Look, Twiggy, about that night. I – I’m . . . really sorry about that.” He leaned forward and tried to see her face as she continued to stare out the window. He didn’t miss the way she used the back of her hand to wipe away a tear. God, why did she have to cry? This rattled his nerves even more. “And no one paid me to kiss you. That, I did because I wanted to.”
When she didn’t respond, he leaned forward to look at her again.
“Did you hear me?” he asked. “I said I’m sorry.”
“I heard, but I don’t believe you.” He heard malice in her voice as she continued to stare out the window rather than to look directly at him.
“I mean it. I’m sorry.”
“Guys like you never mean a word they say. Especially not to girls like me. After all, you’re too self-centered.”
“Now, wait a moment. I don’t deserve that. Besides, I’m not self-centered at all.”
“Really?” She let out a whoosh of air from her mouth. “That’s why you didn’t even want to spring for a proper car seat or supplies that an orphan needs to survive?”
“I bought everything you put in the cart!” he shouted, waking up the baby. She started to cry and Burrito in turn started howling.
“Not everything. You made me put back the teething cream and I’m sure that is why she’s crying.”
“What?” Cal shook his head and thumped his hands on the steering wheel. “Twiggy, stop it. This isn’t about the baby, and we both know it. This is about you wanting to get revenge on me for treating you the way I did years ago.”
“Is it?” She clenched her jaw and fists and turned her head away from him. “Not everyone is out to hurt another, no matter what you think.”
“Now that’s a lie. And this has gone too far and needs to stop.” His head moved back and forth, looking at her and then back to the road as he tried to ignore the wailing of the baby and howling of the dog from the back seat. It was a struggle just trying to think without going mad. “Did you hear me?” he said louder, trying to make his voice heard over all the noise. “Look at me, Twiggy. Look at me!”
She finally turned and looked at him and his heart just about broke when he saw the glassiness of her eyes. Yes, he had hurt her badly with his little prank. She still suffered from it, even if it was such a long time ago. His eyes locked with hers and he found himself drowning in her pain. His heart went out to her.
Then her eyes darted over to the road and opened wide. “Cal, watch out!” she shouted, gripping the sides of the seat.
His head snapped around, his eyes finally back on the road. That’s when he saw the family of deer drifting into the road. The mother led the little ones, darting right in front of his truck. He took his foot off the gas and started to break, checking his mirrors for traffic behind him but, thankfully, there wasn’t any at the time. Then he heard the awful thump and crunch of metal as his rig hit the large doe and it went flying through the air, grazing the windshield. Fur and blood smattered the glass. He couldn’t avoid it. He hit, and he was sure, killed the deer.
“No!” cried Twiggy, seeing what happened and then closing her eyes and looking the other way, still bracing herself against the seat.
“Arf,” came the cry of Burrito as his body tumbled off the bench and he landed on the floor, rolling and stopping between Cal and Twiggy.
“Damn it!” Cal’s hand went out to steady his dog as he pulled over to the shoulder of the road and stopped the truck. “Are you all right?” he asked Twiggy, feeling his heart beating against his ribs.
“I’m fine. The baby!” Twiggy unclasped the seat belt and bolted over to Maggie who was still crying.
“Is she hurt?” Fear shot through Cal. God, he hoped nothing had happened to the baby. The thought frightened him to no end.
“She’s just scared but unharmed.” Twiggy took the baby out of the car seat and held her tightly against her chest, trying to calm her down. “Thank goodness I had you secure her car seat to the bench.”
“Yeah,” he said, petting Burrito, making sure he wasn’t harmed at all. “Good thing.” He had thought at the time that Twiggy was being overprotective, but now he realized that her cautious nature might have just saved the baby from getting hurt. He’d be sure not to question her choices in the future where the baby was concerned. He was out of his element here, but babies seemed to be her forte. “I’m going to see how much damage was done to the truck. Stay here with Maggie and Burrit
o. I don’t want you out on the road. It’s too dangerous. Besides . . . it’s not going to be a pretty sight.”
He opened the door, popping the hood latch and heading out to check the damage. Burrito sat on the seat watching him and whining softly.
“It’ll be all right, Burrito,” Tuesday told the dog, not sure at all why she was talking to an animal she didn’t even like. She bounced Maggie, then decided to quickly warm up a bottle to try to get her to go back to sleep. Tuesday really wanted to go out there and see what had happened.
She had just fixed the bottle and strapped Maggie back into the car seat when the door opened and Cal made his way back to the sleeper compartment of the truck. He started ripping open cabinets and drawers, digging through things.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I need my road flares and cones,” he told her, finally finding and collecting the items.
“Oh, so no one will hit us?” she asked.
“That, and so they won’t hit the deer. It’s a big one and laying in the road a little ways behind the truck.”
“Maybe we should move it,” she suggested as he dug through another drawer, tossing items onto the floor.
“I can’t move anything until I get the police report filed.”
“Police? For hitting a deer? I hardly think they’ll even care. After all, it was an accident.”
“It’s for insurance purposes,” he told her, reaching above his head and digging through another cabinet, looking for something. “Since I own my rig, I pay the insurance which is high enough as it is. I need all the damage recorded. Damn it, where is my flashlight?”
“Oh, is that what you’re looking for?” Tuesday got down on her knees and reached forward under the driver’s seat and pulled out a flashlight and handed it to him.
“What was it doing there? That’s not where I keep it.”
“I moved it closer for you,” explained Tuesday. “I figured if you ever needed it while driving you’d never be able to reach it all the way back here.”
Trucker Daddy (Working Man Series Book 3) Page 8