Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Cassidy,” I remind him. “Not, Lady.”
“Look, Cassidy, I’m too fucking busy to screw you over. Take a look for yourself if you don’t believe me. I really don’t give a damn.”
I take a quick look at the diagnostics just to make myself feel better. “Fuck,” I bite out when it’s clear that this insufferable man is right. “All right, you can order it.”
“Already did,” he says with a cocky grin. “The repair itself isn’t that difficult, but it’ll take some time to get the part, a few days at least.”
A few days? I don’t have a few days. Okay, technically, I do because I don’t have another job lined up, but I could be at home instead of chillin’ in California. “Is there anywhere close to here to rent a room for the night?” I need to stay close to my rig. This place looks nice enough with many new safety features, but I don’t know these people and prefer to be close rather than sorry.
“I might know of a place or two if you’re not too picky.”
I roll my eyes. “I need a hot shower and a hard mattress, that’s all.”
He lets out a snort-laugh. “I thought you were gonna say something else.”
“Of course you did,” I shoot back as if now I’m not thinking about exactly what else is hard that he thought I might mention. No, stop it, Cassidy. That’s not what you’re here for.
Definitely not, but the eye candy is definitely nice. Especially when he doesn’t speak.
CHAPTER TWO
Diesel
“I can give you a ride if you want. I promise not to bite.” I wink at the cute trucker with the attitude. “Unless you ask.”
She rolls hazel eyes with big flecks of green in them. Then she crosses her arms over a perfect handful of tits hiding behind a black tank top that shows off the sculpted arms of a woman who works hard. She’s tall for a chick, toned and athletic, and dammit, I’m interested. Sort of.
Maybe.
I can’t deny that she’s attractive, even though she tries hard to hide the stacked body underneath. Even her hair, tied back with a leather strap, is styled for efficiency, not glamour, probably to keep her hair out of her face when she’s on the road.
But the way those jeans hug her strong, lean thighs tells me she’s fit all over, which is definitely my type, just not usually the whole tomboy thing. “Well, you want a ride or what?”
She studies me carefully, clearly trying to decide if I’m trustworthy or not, and I get it. On the outside, I look like exactly what I am: a biker and a gearhead, nothing but a grease monkey. But I don’t hurt women, not at all. Women are made for lovin’, not fightin’.
Cassidy finally speaks up. “You can give me a ride to the closest and cheapest place to stay with a private bathroom.”
I raise my brows. “A private bathroom?”
“Yeah,” she nods, looking around the parking lot, anywhere but at me. “I want a shower, or else I’d just stay in the cab.”
“Not a possibility as long as it’s parked here,” I tell her honestly. I may be willing to help her repair her rig, but there was too much valuable shit around here to let a complete stranger stay unsupervised.
“Okay, then,” she sighs. “Make sure it’s a motel close to here. Then, I don’t want to fuck around with a rideshare app. When the truck’s ready, I can walk over here and get on the road again.”
“Eager to leave our fine city behind?” Why I’m teasing her, I can’t say. But when she glares at me, I laugh, and I know that’s why.
“Just ready to get back on the road,” she says easily.
“All right. I know of a place that’s close by and won’t break the bank. Come on.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Positive.”
“Thanks,” she bites out through clenched teeth, and in one smooth move, she jumps up into the cab, returning a second later with a black canvas bag. “Okay,” she says and motions for me to lead the way.
She falls in step beside me, and I point across the parking lot because she seems suspicious, and I want to put her at ease. Mostly at ease, anyway. “So, how did you become a truck driver?”
“I took the classes and passed the test, and now here I am.”
I laugh at her spunk. It’s not the answer I expect most women to give, but I’ve only known Cassidy for five minutes, and I wouldn’t expect any other answer. “That’s generally how it goes, but what made you want to become a truck driver?”
She shrugs, clearly uncomfortable talking about herself. “My dad was a driver.” She comes to a stop beside me and stares at my bike like it’s a fire-breathing dragon. “What the hell is that thing?”