Page 51 of Wren's Winter

“Okay, hop back in, Birdie. I’ll tow them out.”

Once he was sure all the items were safely attached, he motioned for me to get back in the truck. He told the boys to put the truck in neutral.

Bits of snow and dirt clung to his jacket as he climbed back into the truck. A swipe of mud or possibly grease on his forehead and into his hair. His jacket had damp spots and what was likely a stain blooming across the side.

Shifting into reverse, we drove back a few feet, and then the truck stopped moving or a minute. Our tires spinning, neither truck was moving now. He cursed low, getting out and slamming the door. An exaggerated gesture and a yell about the brakes being on and then he was back in the truck. This time, both of the vehicles moved. It wrenched the small older truck violently back onto the road, and all four tires now firmly on the gravel and snow road.

“Stay here.” He reached over and tightened my seatbelt as if I were about to fly away.

“You got it, Teach.”

As he climbed out, I heard a low mumble of how I deserved a spanking. A big grin on my face. I watched as he unhooked everything.

The teenager’s truck now firmly on solid ground, the boys got out smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Winter. We owe you one.”

The glower he gave the boys could only be described as a veteran teacher about to lay down the law. “I want you boys to go back down the mountain. No more donuts in the snow without proper tools.”

“Sure thing, Teach.” One of the boys saluted.

“And dump out that beer. I don’t know whose basement mini fridge you stole this swill out of, but I’m not letting you drive a yard down the road until it’s in the ditch.”

“Oh, come on, man! Weren’t you ever a kid wanting to have some fun?” the dark-haired boy asked.

“It’s just light beer,” the other boy chimed in. “Practically water.”

“Out.” Adrian pointed to the ditch. The boys grumbled a bit longer before grabbing the beer and cracking each can. The yellow liquid splashed over the grimy snow of the ditch.

“I’m going to be following you down the mountain, so no side trip until we get to the highway, got it?”

Contritely, the boys climbed into their truck, making their way down the snow-covered road.

Once we were safely in the truck behind them, Adrian started the descent.

“Dumb kids.” He shook his head. “Not dumb but no sense. Coming up here in a two-wheel-drive truck with no tow rope, no spare water—unless you count a six-pack of light beer and not even a wrench between them.”

As if I could understand half of what he said, I nodded. “Yeah, wild.”

The chagrined look he flashed me had me smiling bigger. “If I hadn’t come by, I have no idea how they would’ve gotten out.”

“Did you really need to make them dump out their beer?” I asked.

From his spot in the driver’s seat, Adrian flashed me a grin. “Nah, probably not. I could have pretended it didn’t see it under the old sweatshirt they threw on top, but honestly, messing with kids is so much fun I couldn’t help it.”

“You could have taken the beer and drank it. That’s what my parent’s friend did when she caught me drinking with my friends as a teen.”

Scrunching up his nose. “Free beer is my favorite beer, but even I have to draw the line somewhere. That stuff tastes like a moldy sweat sock soaked in lime juice.”

“Had a lot of experience with moldy sweat socks?”

Reaching across the console, he grabbed my side, squeezing my ribs. With it being the most ticklish spot on my body, I squirmed away. “No tickling the Birdie.”

“It’s not a tickle. It’s a massage.” His hand moved down to my knee, squeezing that. I let out a snort and kicked my leg.

“No massage,” I shrieked out between fits of laughter, trying to push his hand away. “Hands on the wheel, Mr. Winter.”

His straight white teeth flashed as he removed his hands from me. “Okay, fine. But now that I know all your weak spots, I might need to exploit them later.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked in mock outrage.

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