Page 15 of Highway To Destiny

“Oh no, not at all. I noticed a group of students emerging from a hidden spot in those trees over there, each carrying a cup. It reminded me of a line of ants returning to their nest with food,” he replied with a light chuckle. I huffed back with a laugh, slightly sloshing some beer over my hand. Perhaps my nerves were a bit too obvious.

“You told me you loved to watch people at these gatherings,” Mason said, almost like a question. “Do you want to find a seat somewhere where we can take it in?”

Yes, I definitely do, and I so want to do more with you than just sit and take in this crowd.I thought as I looked at his handsome face.

The flickering flames of the bonfire highlighted his angled features, and I felt my blood heat. The firelight danced in his eyes as he looked at me, and the ends of his black hair almost took on a blue hue. My desire for the man had become nearly too much. I took another swig of beer and noticed Mason had all but finished his. He glanced into my cup before taking it from me.

“Let me get us a refill. I’ll be right back.” He smiled, grazed my fingers when he reached for it, and then said, “Why don’t you find us a place to sit.” I watched him walk away and took in his ass, just as Spencer had done earlier.

I looked around and saw a large flat boulder with enough room for two, not more than ten yards away. It was set back enough for privacy with shrubbery that hid the rock from behind. Mason returned with fresh beer to where we’d been standing before, so I called out to get his attention.

“Here you go,” he said cheerfully handing me a beer as he lightly tapped his cup to mine. We sat on the boulder close enough that our shoulders, thighs, and knees touched. Although the boulder was big enough for two, neither of us was small. I felt his body heat and noticed his woodsy scent. There was a hint of leather infused with sandalwood, and I felt my cock swell as I took in that intoxicating scent as if it were an aphrodisiac.

I needed to clear my head, sitting close to him. I thought asking about his trucking business and more personal aspects of his life might distract me from my wanton thoughts. He’d never mentioned a wife or girlfriend, which only fueled the fantasies I had about him. He didn’t wear a ring on his left hand, but I realized many married men didn’t wear wedding bands.

“How often are you on the road with these trips you take?” I asked, beginning my mental list of questions.

He laughed. “I’ve been known to be on the highways for weeks at a time. It just depends on the freight I need to carry and where my broker sends me. I’m an independent trucker, and we often use freight brokers to find pickups. Brokers act as intermediaries between shippers and carriers. But since I’m a lone wolf who’s done this for years, I’m able to pick and choose my territories and make it work so I can take time off when I like.”

That was the most Mason had ever spoken in one sitting, and it was not only refreshing but I was also being educated about the trucking business. I wanted to learn more.

I looked down at my beer, feeling braver, then glanced at him quickly and asked, “You must be on the road alone quite a bit, and I don’t mean to pry, but does your wife or girlfriend take kindly to you being away for long stretches?” My heart quickened, not knowing if I really wanted to know the answer.

I took another big swallow of beer, wincing internally at my boldness. I felt Mason’s gaze as he looked my way. I shifted and looked back at him.

“I’m not married, nor do I have a girlfriend…and you’re not prying. I’ve been rather silent about my life, and you’re just being curious,” he replied. He looked away, absorbed in thought, his expression turning somewhat somber. “I’m a widower.” He took a long draught of beer and continued to look straight ahead at the roaring bonfire.

With his admission of being a widower, my heart sank, both in empathy for his grief and at the realization that I now had my answer about his sexuality. I didn’t want to bring up anything that could spoil the night, and I was afraid I’d done just that.

I cleared my throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” He immediately set his hand on my knee, stopping me from continuing the apology.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize.” He paused briefly. “It was a long time ago.” He kept his hand on my knee as he spoke, looking into my eyes, and I could feel a definite tingle and warmth run up my leg to my crotch.

After he’d finished, I gently placed my hand on his, which was still on my knee. I could feel his pulse quicken along with mine, and a spark seemed to ignite between us. Not second-guessing, I placed my head on his shoulder. I wanted to wrap my arms around him so badly and draw him into a sympathetic embrace. My intentions at that moment weren’t amorous. I just wanted him to know I cared.

I felt him lean his head on top of mine, and my breath hitched.

13

MASON

After I’d woken up from my short power nap, it was approaching five-thirty and already dark. I needed to take a quick shower and change before I headed off to the bonfire. I had two and a half hours before meeting Connor and Spencer. The Flying J Travel Center I’d frequented many times was only three miles from where I parked my rig. I figured it would be the best option to get cleaned up and changed. I easily grabbed a ride share with about twenty minutes to spare once I got back. It would be an easy walk to our rendezvous point, according to Connor.

Meeting the guys at the large fir tree had me excited to see Connor again. I arrived only a few minutes late, and I could tell they were buzzing with excitement, yet I wasn’t sure if it was for the beer or that I’d shown up.

Upon my handshake with Connor and our close proximity, my heart raced. He looked enchanting. His blond highlights seemed to dance when the firelight illuminated them. His breath had a subtle scent of mint, and his smile was open and inviting. In the dim light, his eyes were a deep green, yet they sparkled. Then there was Spencer, who reminded me of a golden retriever. His excitement at meeting me loosened the tension in my shoulders, and I thought the evening might be enjoyable—especially with the flaming pyramid growing more impressive by the minute.

I’d had done some internal struggling around the infatuation thing with him, and I still wasn’t sure how I felt about feeling so drawn to Connor. His eyes still held me captive. Their uncanny resemblance to my late wife's sent my thoughts spiraling between past and present.

I returned with the beers, and Spencer soon left, leaving the two of us alone. We downed our beers quickly and I offered to get us refills. I needed more liquid courage.

I came back to find Connor seated on a large, flat boulder away from the crowd. Our closeness fueled my pulse when I sat down. He asked more questions, and the one about a wife or girlfriend caught me off guard. I looked his way and sensed he felt he might have overstepped. When I admitted I was a widower, Connor apologized. On impulse, I put my hand on his knee and told him he didn’t need to be sorry.

He returned my gesture by putting his hand on mine and my pulse quickened. What surprised me was he placed his head on my left shoulder. I knew he was sorry for my loss. I liked the tenderness—I leaned my head against his, and we stayed that way for several minutes. My initial need to look around, spurred by uneasiness, revealed nothing—no one even glanced in our direction. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears from my heartbeat as my face flushed.

As soon as I lifted my head from his, he straightened up and looked at me. The next thing I knew, his hand came up to cradle the side of my face. He slowly caressed my cheek with his thumb, but I didn’t pull back. I wanted it, though I didn’t really know what that meant.

Did I anticipate this might happen? What does this mean about my identity, and how far would it go tonight?

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