Page 93 of Truck Hard

“Okay.” I straighten my spine, smoothing my dress one last time. “How do I really look?”

Cam comes to stand beside me, both of us reflected in the entryway mirror. My son—our son—nearly as tall as me now,with Liam’s dark eyes and my smile. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time, to tell my teenage self that everything would work out in the end. That love finds a way, even through the darkest times.

“You look beautiful, Mom,” Cam says softly. “And strong. Like... like you’re finally you again.”

Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back. I won’t cry and ruin my makeup, not when Liam’s about to—

The doorbell rings, and my heart stops.

Here we go.

I look at my reflection one last time, at the woman wearing a pretty blue dress and a silver bracelet that speaks of young love and second chances. At my son beside me, solid and real and so full of hope for both of us.

“Ready?” Cam asks, grinning.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Ready.”

Cam practically bounceson his feet as he rushes to answer the door. He might be just as excited as me about this date. I follow more slowly, each step measured against the thundering of my heart.

Liam stands in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun. My breath catches at the sight of him. He’s wearing dark jeans and a crisp button-down that stretches across his broad shoulders. His dark hair is slightly tousled, like he’s been running his fingers through it. An indication that he’s just as nervous as I am.

His eyes find mine and something electric passes between us. The pleased look that spreads across his face makes heat rise to my cheeks.

“Hannah.” He steps forward, closing the distance between us. “You look beautiful.”

Before I can respond, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His cologne—woodsy and familiar—wraps around me like a warm embrace.

Cam sidles up next to me, barely containing his smugness. “I told you so,” he whispers loudly enough for Liam to hear.

I roll my eyes, but can’t suppress my smile. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

“Already done.” He beams at us both. “I’m going to go hang out with Mac. He promised to show me his racecar. Have fun on your date!”

The word ‘date’ sends another flutter through my stomach. It feels surreal—like stepping back in time to when we were young and everything seemed possible.

Liam holds out his hand. “Ready?”

I take it, letting his warmth seep into my skin. “Ready.”

He leads me to his truck, opening the passenger door with an old-fashioned gallantry that makes me smile. As I climb in, I spot a wicker picnic basket on the seat between us.

“A picnic?” I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

His only response is a mysterious smile as he closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side.

As we pull away from the house, I wave to Cam as he walks toward the homestead where Mac is waiting for him outside the garage. A pang of anxiety hits me—the instinctive fear of being separated from him that I’ve carried since Charlie’s attack. But I push it down. He’s safe. We’re safe.

Liam seems to sense my tension. His hand finds mine across the seat, fingers intertwining naturally.

“He’ll be fine,” he says softly. “Mac and Ash are keeping an eye on him.”

The knowledge that his brothers are watching out for our son loosens something in my chest.

We drive in comfortable silence, the familiar landscape rolling past. I recognize the route—we’re heading toward the lake where we spent countless summer afternoons as teenagers. The realization brings a rush of memories—stolen kisses under willow trees, lazy swims in the cool water, promises whispered against sun-warmed skin.

“I can’t believe it’s still here,” I murmur as Liam turns onto the old dirt road that leads to our favorite spot.

“Some things don’t change.” His thumb traces circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. “Some things just wait for the right time to come back around.”

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