Brody Page 3

  I stepped up the stairs.

  Brody’s mouth had parted, his broad chest moving up and down as he rested.

  Biting my lip, I held in a smile. I maneuvered my way around the truck’s seat and made it into the small bathroom Brody made a big deal about keeping up on earlier tonight.

  I touched the mirror above the sink, studying the reflection of the girl in front of me. Bright hair and heavy make up attracted that man to me. That had been the point. That was always the point.

  Slipping my hand into my hair, I tugged, pulling the wig off, the illusion.

  I think I wanted to wash up now.

  Chapter Five

  Brody

  Damn. I should not be staring at this girl right now. I lied to Alex. I did. I told her the curtain that divided the back from the front of the truck creaked on the hooks. Truth was they didn’t make a peep when they moved. I fibbed a little so she’d stay and I’d readily admit that if she asked me about it—and apologize for the initial lie of course. I knew she’d be safe here and I couldn’t trust she’d be okay if she chose to leave. Despite the fact she said she’d stayed in the truck last night, I was still a little paranoid that she would be gone when I woke up. The thought had me up early today, my body aching as I unfolded myself from my chair. This body and that tiny seat didn’t mix well when it came to sleeping, but I would do it again for the girl in the back of my truck, the one sleeping in my bed, the one I checked on now through a crack of the curtain to make sure she’d stayed and was okay…

  Damn. I really shouldn’t be staring at her right now.

  The urge to do the appropriate thing, close the curtain and walk away after now verifying her well-being, poked at my brain. I couldn’t make myself do that, though. Close the curtain and walk away.

  She had short hair, not long, but damn if that look wasn’t more becoming than girls I’d seen with the longest hair. It swept just a little bit over her closed eyes, reaching her lashes but nothing more, and not every girl could pull the shortness off. I had seen something similar only on actress, Halle Berry, and Alex… she rocked it something crazy. The length let me see her face more and exposed it in new ways to me. She must have washed her make up off before she went to sleep; her full lips looking so soft. The girl didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, not an ounce, and my earlier thought that she didn’t need it rang true. I idly wished she’d open her eyes so I could see the whole package of the girl I wanted to shield; stare upon those eyes I wanted to keep fear out of. I didn’t understand the need for the heavy make up or the wig I could now see as a few of the magenta strands of it peaked from inside her sparkly bag on the floor. I needed to know more about this mysterious girl I was riding with. So much more.

  My phone buzzed in my jacket and I realized I couldn’t take the chance of waking her up. If she saw I looked in on her, she might run, misunderstanding why I checked in.

  After tying the curtain closed, I left my truck to take the call. The name on my phone had me sighing before I picked up.

  “Hey, Gram,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, happy that she called.

  There was silence before she spoke. “Brody, you sound funny. Are you not happy I called?”

  Never could fool my grandma. I pushed my hand behind my neck, rubbing at the tension. “Of course I’m happy, Gram. What’s up? You doing okay?”

  “I’m fine. Fine. You on the road, sweetie pie?”

  Nah, but I should have been now that I thought about it. I’d gotten up on time to head out and meet my deadline for my delivery. I had a drop off and pick up at one of my company’s locations a couple hundred miles away. I hesitated leaving first thing because I wanted Alexa to be able to sleep. She looked so exhausted last night. I wanted to have breakfast with her this morning, settle down, and get to know her, but I supposed it was too late for that now.

  I headed toward the truck stop, opting to get her coffee and doughnuts instead.

  “I’m about to be,” I told Gram on the way. “I just woke up not too long ago. I got a deadline to make on some parts that need delivering before I cross the state line home.”

  The line went eerily silent. I knew exactly why, but I didn’t dare break it. Gram hated me on the road and that I took this job.

  “Brody, I don’t like you traveling for work.”

  I lifted my eyes to the heavens. I called that one. Opening the doughnut case, I grabbed a couple of cream-filled doughnuts and a cake one with sprinkles. I wondered if Alex liked those.

  “It’s not safe. You could get robbed or something.”

  “I haven’t yet, Gram,” I told her, selecting more doughnuts with tissue paper. “And you know I can handle my own.”

  Not only did I grow up in a house full of men, one in which all of us boys were rowdy as hell, but I’d been in a bar fight or two. I blamed that on my stupid days. All of which occurred in my late teens and early twenties. It was back when I thought the girls I met in bars were worth fighting over. I was twenty-five now and didn’t have time for that shit. In more dangerous situations, I had my firearm. Gram knew that. Fuck, she showed me how to use it. My pop could shoot like the best of them, but my gram, she knew a gun like the back of her hand. She had to. It was just she and my Aunt Robin living out on a small ranch by themselves. My grand pop died a few years back and since then, it’d been only the two of them out there besides the ranch hands.

  “I know you can; that doesn’t mean I want you to,” she continued.

  I closed the box of doughnuts. I’d gathered a dozen or so inside. I wanted Alex to have choices, as I didn’t know what she liked. I was filling two cups with coffee when Gram spoke again.

  “Don’t you think this is silly? You could just be working for your dad.”

  I gripped the cup I’d just sealed with a plastic lid. My gram made a mistake. I wouldn’t be working for my pop. His name might have been on the construction business he just launched late last year, but it wasn’t his. Not really. Besides, I didn’t need the handout. I took care of myself. I always brought in money and put it back toward the family when it was needed; whether it was a fence that had to be mended on my Gram’s ranch or even just a utility bill to make things easier on my pop. I worked the most out of all us kids growing up, even more than my older brother, Hayden, when we worked with Pop all those years at Carter’s Construction. Working was something I was good at and took pride in and I liked the feeling it gave me to give back to the people who raised me. I’d always been able to do that. I’d always been able to help out.

  That was until earlier this year.

  I sealed the other cup with another lid, placing both coffees in a cardboard cup holder after I did. “I like what I do, Gram. And I’m safe doing this job. I promise.”

  I was only mostly sure on both things I’d said, but I couldn’t worry my gram. Mostly was enough in this case.

  “I hope so. Are you coming to dinner Friday?” she asked.

  I smiled, walking my items to the counter to purchase. “Of course.”

  “Good. Your pop will be there.”

  I held my smile like she was here to put it on for. “Perfect.”

  Gram filled me in on the list of grub she was making for Friday while I paid for the coffee and doughnuts. I ended up using my debit card, as I was running low on cash after last night. The list of food on my Gram’s agenda had my mouth watering by the time we finished up the call. I was actually happy to come home for a bit and relax a minute between routes to see her and my aunt.

  I exited the truck stop and the sight of Alex sent an unexpected jump into my heart.

  She stood outside my truck, her hand pushed into her short hair. She’d been wrapped up in my sheets earlier so I missed the image of her in a shirt way too large for her, framing only the most developed parts of her body. The shirt was so long it nearly covered, what I assumed, were tiny shorts. I could see the hem of them just below her top. No fishnet stockings covered her legs, her feet bare on the parking lot concrete, as she
wandered outside my truck with her hand in her hair. This was a different girl in front of me. Like the one last night had vanished. One thing that hadn’t changed was the expression on her face. There was an uneasiness there while she gazed around.

  I stepped toward her, coffees balanced on top of the box of doughnuts. “Alex?” I called to her. She was still a fair distance away from me.

  Her eyes flickered in my direction and I got to see the image I wanted to before. I got the whole package with those large eyes on me. She said a single word, “Brody,” before dropping her hand from her hair. Something I also noticed: she didn’t seem so worried anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Alexa

  Of course he was in the truck stop. Of course. And he brought doughnuts with two cups of coffee.

  That was so sweet.

  I could mentally kick myself for worrying about him. When I got up, he wasn’t there in the front cab. I peeked in on him behind the curtain and the first thing I did was panic like an idiot. He wouldn’t just take off and leave his truck with me inside it.

  God, Alexa. Get it together.

  My attention redirected to his hand when he lifted it from his side. He placed a black smart phone I didn’t know he had on the doughnut box next to the coffees.

  The air left my lips in small breaths. He had a cellphone. Of course he did. Most people had one. Maybe I could use his tonight….

  “Look at you.”

  My eyes flashed up to his sapphire blue ones. What did he mean? “Sorry?”

  Those eyes twinkled at me and I found myself grateful for my confusion as long as they continued to do so in my direction.

  He gestured to me. “Trying something new with your look?”

  My body went ramrod straight, my toes—my bare toes—curling on the concrete beneath my feet. Shit, did I really come out here in my sleep clothes? My hair most definitely a mess, as I didn’t check out a mirror before I panicked that Brody was missing?

  I backed toward the truck, pushing my hand into my short hair like that would hide my lapse in judgment.

  “Sorry,” I flubbed. The door hit my back in my backward steps. I reached back for the handle, opening the door. “Let me just go fix…”

  “I actually like it.”

  His words came out just as I faced the door. I turned back slowly. “You… like it? My bed clothes?”

  Or was it my bare feet? My mess of hair? What exactly did he like? I wished he’d say.

  He blinked instead, rubbing his hand behind his neck. “I guess I meant to say… I mean I don’t not like them. They’re great. But I just meant, uh…” He dropped his hand from his neck and presented the doughnut box. “Breakfast? I got us something for the road. You drink coffee, right?”

  I couldn’t help my smile. This big strong guy flustering. I reached for a coffee, tipping it to him. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, his gaze drifting off, and I stood there awkwardly, trying to come up with something to say. He just complimented me… I think. He looked nice too. He always did. I wished he didn’t wear his hat so much, though. I wanted to see his eyes without the shade of the bill casting over them and his hair that looked so soft.

  I cleared my throat. “I uh, like your look, too.”

  Before he could say anything, I brought the coffee up to my lips and bolted up the stairs of his truck.

  Brody

  Hell, what did that mean?

  I tore my shirt off in a frenzy, knowing I didn’t have a lot of time to change while Alex changed her own clothes behind my curtain divider.

  Her comment couldn’t have referred to my shirt. Could it? Not this old work shirt handed down though the turnover of new employees for the company I worked for. No way did she compliment that, which was why I was rummaging through all these godforsaken cubbyholes in my truck for a clean one. By the grace of God, I found a t-shirt tucked away behind a bag of beef jerky I had. Laundry day was when I got home, so options were scarce these days.

  I slipped the shirt on, jetting into the tiny bathroom. Pushing my cap off, I looked for a damn comb. When I found one, I tackled the mess on my head.

  Maybe she was being sarcastic, I thought, getting my hair semi-manageable.

  After clicking off the light in the bathroom, I took a seat in my chair, breathy from all the quick shit I did. Alex didn’t seem like the type to be sarcastic, though. The girl seemed real as hell. She probably had to be with what she’d most likely seen.

  I pushed my hand into my hair. Did she mean she liked how I looked generally? I shook my head. I guess I had to pass this off as another mystery that was her.

  The girl was so damn quiet I nearly rocketed out of my seat when she made her appearance up front. With the coffee I bought her to her lips, she took an even quieter seat. Her look from last night returned. She wore her short skirt and her revealing top, but the fishnets were gone, her makeup as well. She also left her wig behind and I smiled studying her. I really did like her look.

  She pushed a short strand of her hair behind her ear, lifting her eyes to me. “Are we going to go, Brody?”

  Yeah, if I could just stop looking at you… Staring and trying to figure you out...

  I turned, grabbing the box of doughnuts off the dashboard so we could go. I slid my phone off the box, slipping it into my pocket. I caught Alex watching me. More so my hand as I put my phone away. I gazed down and realized my gun was exposed. I had to lift my shirt a bit to get my phone in my pocket. I had it tucked into my waistband as I strapped up this morning. I was still a little paranoid after last night.

  I pointed at it. “Does this bother you?”

  She blinked. “Oh, no. I was just…” She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

  I wasn’t so sure. I gestured to the bottom of her seat. “Go ahead and hand me the box again. I can put it away. No biggie.”

  She lowered, gathering it. “You really don’t have to. I was looking at—”

  “It’s fine,” I told her, taking the box. Having the thing on me just meant my paranoia piqued anyway. I put it away, then got us moving, pulling my truck out onto the road.

  Alex sat quietly, her cup of coffee pressed to her lips. She eyed the box of doughnuts I set on the console, but seemed apprehensive to help herself.

  “You can have some if you like. There’s plenty,” I said, glancing at her once before staring back at the road.

  When that lowly box of doughnuts stayed stationary, I reached down, lifting them up to help her out. Finally, she took one, thanking me lightly before nibbling even lighter on the frosted cake doughnut. I’d have to remember that she liked those.

  “How um,” she started, nibbling a little on her doughnut. Her hand swept up, brushing away that dark hair from her lashes. “How old are you?”

  Blinking, I sat back a little. She wanted to know something personal, personal about me. But what was more interesting was she actually asked.

  I smiled a little. “Twenty-five,” I said placing the doughnut box down. I tipped my chin once my hand returned to the wheel. “You?”

  I wondered at first if she’d even answer me. I mean, I knew she was the one to ask initially but still. She was so closed off.

  A light, “twenty-two,” left from her lips and something soft, something beautiful, pushed into her mouth. Damn, this girl could smile.

  Eating her breakfast, she didn’t dare seem to want to ask anything else and what I wouldn’t give to get her to talk a little more and open up.

  During my casual glances at her, I noticed I wasn’t the only one doing it. I’d catch those lost eyes every once and a while. This last time I decided to acknowledge that.

  “What?” I asked her, keeping my voice teasing. “I got something on my shirt or something?”

  I damn well made sure I hadn’t. Finding this shirt was a bitch and I wouldn’t dirty it up in front of this girl.

  Her head of short hair lowered like she was going all shy. “Nothing. It’s just…” She smiled e
ven shier. “You took your hat off.”

  I pushed my hand over my hair. Did she like my hat? Hell, I’d put that shit back on.

  “I can pull over and get it out of the back.” I said this mostly joking but if she wanted me to, I probably would. My comment got me another one of those laughs out of her that reminded me of chimes in the breeze. Mission completed.

  I studied her hair. “Looks like someone else left something in the back.”

  Her eyes flickered up like she could see her own hair. Chuckling, she put her hand to her head. “Want to pull us over so I can get it out the back?”

  I had to laugh myself at this point. She had humor, too, by playing off me. I liked that. I tapped the steering wheel. “It’s definitely different. Shorter, but that’s not a bad thing.”

  I wondered why she hid it. That hairstyle definitely wasn’t bad on her. Before, I ached to push the magenta locks away, to see her dark eyes and the soft features of her face better. Now the same feeling tugged at my fingers. Not to push away, but to touch and thread lightly through.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she viewed the road. “I prefer it this way. It makes it easier to…” She bit her lip and I was left hanging on her sentence.

  What was she going to say?

  She didn’t finish the statement. Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind,” before bringing her arms around herself. The mood in the truck went awkward again, filled with a familiarity from when we first met. I feared we were headed back to square one and the urge to keep that from happening tugged my lips to say something else. Laughing seemed to open her up. I headed that route.

  “So is she your alias?” I asked.

  Her gaze went to me first before she turned her head. “Who?”

  “That girl in the back with magenta hair.” I pointed behind with my thumb, keeping my eyes on the road. “Is she your other self? Your alias?”

  That smile returned, starting slow at her full lips before brightening her whole face. “I guess you could call her that.”