Turbocharged

by Jessie Gussman

  Finally, Bobby’s arms started loosening around his waist. Nate didn’t want to break the spell that seemed to be integrated in the air around them, but he didn’t want Bobby to fall off. He stopped.

  Kaitlyn pulled alongside in the opposite direction.

  “Someone’s falling asleep,” he said over the rumble of the motors.

  “OK.” She pointed her machine down the mountain.

  Nate followed, his right hand holding the handlebars and working the gas, his left holding Bobby’s arms around his waist. His gaze stayed on the slim outline of Kaitlyn’s back. He was a protector. And Kaitlyn wasn’t exactly the kind of woman who wanted protection. They would clash over so many things—he could think of a hundred right off the top of his head. She was too driven and determined, and he was way too likely to use his fists to settle any dispute. So therefore, there couldn’t be any disputes. He needed a woman who wouldn’t argue or demand, who was naturally sweet-tempered and easy going. If he followed his heart to Kaitlyn, he’d end up hurting her. He had to remember that.

  11

  Kaitlyn paid the sitter while Nate carried Bobby up and put him to bed. Waiting for him to come back down, she wanted to pace, but she busied herself taking care of the few dishes in the sink instead. After what she’d told him this afternoon, she figured he’d fix Tank’s trucks down at the truck stop rather than ever have to see her again. Yet tonight, he’d sought her out, ridden with her and didn’t seem angry. What could he need to talk to her about?

  She placed the last bottle on the drainer as Nate stepped into the kitchen doorway. His shoulders almost stretched from one side of it to the other. There was no smile on his face, rather his gaze was pinned on her, and he seemed more concerned about her reaction to him.

  Unable to play the silent game, she said, “It’s warm. Do you want to step outside?”

  “Sure.” He moved from the doorway with that grace that was so at odds with his geeky, intellectual look.

  Turning, she moved out the door ahead of him, placing her hands on the banister. She lifted her face in the warm night air and gazed at the bright, almost full moon. Expecting Nate to maybe lean beside her or take a seat on the steps, she was surprised when his footsteps followed her, stopping behind her. He wasn’t touching her, but his warm breath skimmed over her hair.

  “You won’t strangle me, will you?” She turned her head with an eyebrow cocked.

  “Not to start with.” His eyes fell on her neck, as if he was thinking about it. “Not ruling it out.”

  “Very funny.” At least she hoped he was kidding.

  “I talked to Clint.”

  Kaitlyn’s stomach dropped. She turned back around, struggling to cover the fear and panic that surely showed on her face. What had Clint said? Shrugging, striving for nonchalance, she said, “Yeah?”

  “He drugged you. And Tank.”

  She whirled around and stepped back in shock. The banister dug into the small of her back, and she put a hand out to grip it. “That low down son of a biscuit!” No wonder she couldn’t remember anything about that night. And she wasn’t the only one involved. Her gaze met Nate’s and her voice softened. “Have you told Tank and Eve?”

  A brisk nod. “On the way here.”

  She sighed. “Good.” Sweet Eve had not deserved to be put through that trial. Kaitlyn hoped everything worked out for them. As though her emotions were swinging out of control, that compassion was replaced with a bowling ball of anger. “I’ll report this to the police. What Clint did was illegal.” The fingernails of her other hand bit into her palms and pressure built in her head behind the red that flashed across her vision.

  Nate didn’t move. “Sure. Tank said the same thing. But there’s no evidence. And it’d be my word against Clint’s, because if they ask about our conversation, he’ll deny everything.”

  Kaitlyn opened her mouth to argue, but he was right. She was angry because she had not once suspected. And the sad truth was, to her shame, she hadn’t been all that picky about who she was with. She bit her lips; she couldn’t go there. Not now. Not with Nate. Sucking in a deep breath, then blowing it out, she asked in a calmer tone, “How’d you get him to admit that?”

  Nate ignored her question for the moment. “He said nothing happened between you and Tank. That Clint just,” he swallowed, “took your clothes off and took pictures.”

  Kaitlyn spun back around. It made her feel icky, dirty, that Clint had handled her naked body. But her chest felt light and free. She still felt bad for Tank, since he had had the same advantage taken of him. The gossip she had heard painted Tank as the victim. After all, he didn’t have the same reputation she did. Another cool wave of relief swept through her body. She hadn’t seduced a married man. She hadn’t broken anyone’s marriage. She hadn’t acted in the despicable manner that everyone so easily believed of her. Her mouth stretched into a huge smile as the weight that had lodged around her shoulders fell off. Unbelievable. “How did you get him to tell you that?” she asked again.

  Nate shrugged. “I guess he saw me sitting there and assumed that it was because of you. Once his mouth got running, he didn’t seem to be able to stop it.”

  “Sitting where?”

  “Runners.”

  Her eyes widened. “The bar down the road?”

  He nodded.

  “I thought you didn’t go to bars.”

  He looked away. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  She stepped closer and sniffed. “You weren’t drinking?”

  “Just a soda.”

  She smiled at that, feeling lighter than a dandelion seed. “You mean milk?”

  Nate gave her a blank look, and then he seemed to understand that she was teasing him. But rather than the smile she had anticipated, his eyes darkened before he gave his head a small shake. He stuck his hands in his pockets and deliberately turned away from her, walked to the post at the top of the steps, and leaned against it.

  “Hey, Nate. I’m sorry.” She hurried over to him, still floating with happiness, not wanting to dim the mood by offending him. He wasn’t tough or strong in the way she was used to, not what she had always been attracted to in men, but he seemed so confident she had thought he was fine with who he was.

  “No problem, Kaitlyn. You’re right. I like milk.” He looked off into the night sky as if studying the stars, but she knew better. He was offended that she had insinuated that he was weak.

  “Nate…” She laid a hand on his back. He must be really angry, because his muscles were really taut. “You know those tough talking truck drivers are mostly just hot air. I’d take a guy who was good with kids over a guy who can knock another man down any day.” It was a lame attempt to let him know that she respected him more than Dusty, even after he hadn’t fought back. He’d have been flattened—surely, he knew it—except for that accident where he tripped and sort of knocked Dusty down.

  Nate didn’t move, didn’t say anything. The tension in his back did not ease.

  She must have offended him more than she thought. “Listen. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything by it.” She stepped around his shoulder, trying to gauge his reaction. “You know I’m actually so sick of all those testosterone-loaded guys who think that their fists can solve everything. As soon as something happens, the first thing they want to do is fight. It’s ridiculous. The last little while, I’ve been realizing how much I admire a man who uses his head rather than his muscles to solve problems.” She dropped her hand and stepped to the banister opposite him, not looking at him. “You’re not like those other guys. In fact, when Dusty was here today, the sight of him being all cock-of-the-walk with his hulking muscles actually made him look foolish.” She turned to him, suddenly feeling desperate at his lack of response. “Don’t you see? With Clint’s confession…yes, it makes me mad, but it also frees me. There was this thing between you and me—Tank and Eve and all that—and now it’s gone.”

  The euphoria of those revelations was starting to d
issipate, and a sinking feeling started in her stomach. Not used to giving up, Kaitlyn ignored it and plowed ahead. “I love your softness, Nate. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s actually attractive. I am so not interested in a guy who’s constantly fighting and trying to prove that he’s manly or whatever.” He needed to understand that she saw his softness as the strength it was.

  However, he pulled his hand from between hers and took a step off the porch. “You’re wrong,” he spoke without looking at her.

  In what way was she wrong? Did he think she wasn’t really attracted to him? She opened her mouth to argue.

  “I didn’t realize how heavy those pictures and that night weighed on you.” He turned and looked her full in the face. “I, along with this whole town, I think, underestimated you. But everything else you said? All of it, you’re wrong. About everything.” His broad shoulders slumped.

  What could she say? What did he mean that she was wrong? Didn’t he believe her, that she didn’t need tattoos and tough-talk to find a man attractive? Not since he strolled into her life. How could she prove it to him?

  “Still going to Pittsburgh tomorrow with me?” Without looking at her his voice came out low, maybe a little hesitant in the darkness.

  Unable to marshal an argument that would convince him, Kaitlyn simply replied, “Yes.”

  “Good.” Nate walked to his car without looking back at her.

  Kaitlyn stared out into the darkness long after he had pulled out. Was he even attracted to her? If Linda was the type of girl that he usually went after, then it stood to reason that he might not be into the tough-girl type. Well, she was used to going after what she wanted. Grabbing it with both hands. She nodded her head once, sharply. Tomorrow she’d just ask him. She slapped her hands on her jeans. Maybe she could dig out a skirt to wear. One that said ‘lady’ and not ‘siren.’ And she could possibly find a frilly girl-shirt to wear with it. Did she have any makeup that wasn’t dried and clumped? Perfume?

  Kaitlyn turned to go in but paused with her hand on the door. She didn’t want to try to turn herself into something she wasn’t just to catch a man. But she was tired of the reputation that she had developed through high school and beyond. The reputation that made it possible for the entire town of Transmission to believe that she would seduce and sleep with a married man. A hard ball settled in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Obviously, the ripple effect of her choices—her bad choices—would haunt her long after she had changed.

  She leaned her head back. Man, she was so tired of living with the guilt. Had she been searching for love, thinking that the physical relationship would satisfy that part of her that had longed for her father’s acceptance? She always came away feeling empty and used. Could she have been punishing herself, too? After all, she was alive, but her brother was dead. Everything was her fault. So, she’d cheapened herself and gave away the most valuable thing she possessed to anyone who would take it. Now she wished she had it all back. She ran both hands through her hair.

  Was that what Nate’s issue was? Yeah, she hadn’t done anything with Tank, but did her reputation disgust him? She threw her shoulders back. Today, tonight, right now, she would begin cultivating a new moral standard. Not for Nate. For herself. Not necessarily because she respected herself, but more because she never, never, never wanted to be in that position again—the wicked witch that everyone hated. So, yeah, that was for herself. But makeup? Girly clothes?

  Snorting in a rather unladylike way, she opened the door and stepped inside. She was a woman. She could exercise her feminine wiles if she wanted to. And she wanted to. Plus, this wasn’t just any man, it was Nate. Her intuition cried out that he was a man to catch. And keep.

  12

  Had she changed her mind?

  Nate stood on the porch and knocked on the door again. Still no answer. He glanced at his watch: 8:02 AM, right on time. He shifted uneasily. He didn’t think she would oversleep, and Kaitlyn wasn’t the type to play games. If she’d changed her mind, he was pretty sure she’d meet him at the door and tell him so to his face. Still, he could have misjudged her. He knocked once more. Maybe she’d fallen and was hurt? Visions of Kaitlyn, bloody and beaten by Clint or Dusty or some other driver with a grudge against the company, sprang into his head. Probably not, but he squared his jaw and tried the door anyway. Unlocked. He walked in. Listening.

  The place was dead silent.

  “Kaitlyn?” Maybe he was successful in keeping the building panic out of his voice. He stepped across the kitchen to the dining room and living area. In the recliner, Kaitlyn sat with her bare feet propped up, head back and eyes closed. The words ‘diesel’ and ‘doctor’ were on the faded t-shirt she wore, but he couldn’t read the rest of it because Bobby lay sprawled against her side, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Gary slept in the crock of her other arm.

  The band around his chest loosened, but something else tightened close to his heart. She looked so different, so…motherly, lying there snuggled with the little boys. A world apart from the woman who worked with him every day in the garage. Different, even, than the one he had ridden with last night. Vulnerable. That spoke to every protective instinct he possessed.

  Bobby must have been scared, as tightly as he still clung to Kaitlyn’s neck. Gary, too, must have been having a rough night.

  Besides the faded tee, Kaitlyn wore what looked to be a pair of old boxers. Short. Her long legs, surprisingly graceful even in sleep, were porcelain white. All that time in jeans and overalls in the garage and working under and around her beloved trucks. Shapely. He hadn’t expected them to look so…good. She dressed like a boy, acted like a boy, talked tough like a boy, but she had a woman’s legs. Actually, a remarkably nice pair of woman’s legs, not that he was any kind of expert.

  Why did he feel…his gaze snapped up to her face and, sure enough, those piercing blue eyes were open and latched onto his. His cheeks heated, and he hoped that his tan was dark enough to hide what must surely be his first blush since he’d accidentally walked into the girls’ bathroom at a Michigan rest area when he’d been about nine. “Nice.” His mouth snapped shut too late. Man, he was an idiot sometimes.

  Kaitlyn lifted her head and blinked. “What?” Her voice was husky with sleep, and he smiled a little at her bed head.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. Even the tips of his ears burned, but he tried to salvage the situation. “Nice and cozy. Happy family.”

  Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. Tension flowed out of her shoulders as she laid her head back. “Gary cried all night.” She blew out a breath. Her gaze, full of sympathy despite the words, rested on Bobby. “And Bobby woke up crying for his mother.”

  “Poor guy. It’s been what, two weeks, since he’s seen her?”

  “Yeah.” She gave him a tired look. “I think you’ve distracted him some. He adores you. But last night, he wanted her and wouldn’t take ‘not now’ for an answer.”

  Nate studied her for a minute. “He loves you, too. And I think he’s enjoyed spending time with his big sister, whom he idolizes.”

  She opened her mouth.

  He crossed his arms and lifted his brows. “Close it. I’m not making that up.”

  She shut her mouth, and her shoulders sagged as the fight drained out of her.

  “Wow. You really must be tired to be so obedient and non-combative.”

  She tossed her head, although her tangled hair didn’t swing as it usually did. “I’ll never be a stand-by-your-man kind of girl.”

  “Too bad. Because that man would be one blessed son of a gun.” He didn’t look at her face to get her reaction; the longing, surprised him. His mouth was running like a leaky faucet today. Stepping forward, he reached down for Gary. “If I wake him, I’ll take care of him. Otherwise, I’ll set him down and start cooking some eggs for breakfast.”

  “We’re getting a late start. I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault the kids were up all night. We can handle it.”


  She started up the steps.

  Last night, she was going on and on about his softness and how much she loved it. He’d had such a hard time keeping his mouth shut. In fact, he hadn’t. He’d told her she was wrong, although it was clear she didn’t understand. But she saw him as one kind of man, the kind of man he wanted to become. One who had control of himself and his temper and wasn’t always looking for a fight. But obviously, that was not the kind of man he was.

  He sighed, carefully setting Gary down in the playpen in the corner. So why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? She’d probably want to sit in his corner with a water bottle and towel. No. Actually, Kaitlyn would want to crawl in the ring and join the fight. Which was the first reason why they could never be together. They were too much alike. They would fight, he would get violent like his dad, not be able to control himself, and he’d end up hurting her. It wouldn’t work. No matter how much he might admire her, all of her. The wrench-turning Kaitlyn. The vulnerable Kaitlyn whom he saw last night. The motherly Kaitlyn that she probably didn’t even realize she had. The sassy Kaitlyn.

  He snorted as he opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of eggs. He needed to stop thinking about all the things he admired about her. A picture of her legs flashed through his mind. Focus instead on the reason they couldn’t be together. Or the fight that he needed to win on Saturday. Or something else that didn’t involve two lives and a train wreck waiting to happen.

  ~*~

  Three hours later they were halfway to Pittsburgh. Both boys had fallen asleep, testimony to the long, sleepless night. Kaitlyn smoothed her hand down her jean clad leg—with her late start, she had dressed in jeans and a t-shirt shirt and a clean pair of boots, same as she always did—and glanced over at Nate, who had won their argument about who got to drive.