Page 71 of Cloudless
I breathe in the new car smell as my eyes roam over the massive truck. A lone white scuff on the dashboard the size of my pinky nail stands out against the dark gray interior.
A red handled glass breaker and seatbelt cutter combo sits in the tray that I would fill with junk before I even left the car dealership.
The vast gray expanse of the backseat is only interrupted by a red cloth cooler that’s covered in half peeled stickers and dark scuff marks. I assume the handle was white at one point.
I face forward in my seat as I rub my growing headache from my temples.
The driver's door opens to surround me in the familiar sounds of my neighborhood before the truck bounces as Kam effortlessly folds himself in the driver's seat. His eyes rake over me as they flash with concern. “You okay, Sunshine?”
“Yeah. My shift last night just took a lot out of me. How long has Wyatt had this thing, anyway?”
He shrugs as he slams the driver’s door, the click of his seat belt snapping in place reverberates through the quiet space. His eyes flick to my fastened seat belt as he twists the key to start the engine. “I don’t know. Maybe two or three years.” He checks the mirrors before pulling away from my driveway.
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “Two or threeyears?There’s no way he’s had this thing for more than a month! It still smells brand new!”
His eyes light up with laughter. “I know, right! You should see his bedroom. Ranger’s got a bit of OCD.” A scowl transformshis face in seconds. “Uh, on second thought, maybe you shouldn’t see his bedroom.”
My voice turns teasing as he fidgets in his seat. “I have no desire to see Wyatt’s bedroom, Trouble.”
A relieved breath escapes his lips like he actually thought that was a possibility. “Good. That’s good.”
His long-sleeved, black shirt is rolled up to his elbows, giving me the perfect view of his forearms as he drives with only his right hand.
I wonder if men know how many women love that sort of thing? Do you think they do it on purpose?
I’m transfixed by every muscle strain as he takes every curve out of my neighborhood with confidence.
The fingers of his free hand drum along the top of the window frame as his diligent eyes scan the road.
His impossibly long legs look normal compared to the large floorboard of Wyatt’s truck. Dark jeans mold to his legs like they were crafted just for him as he deftly operates the pedals.
The blur of my neighborhood through the driver’s side window acts as a backdrop as I trace the outline of his profile with careful eyes.
A crease forms between his eyebrows as he turns toward me. “You okay over there?”
A rogue wave of heat travels over my face and down my neck as I realize I've been caught ogling him. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine. Really.” My fingers fumble with the air vent in front of me as I redirect some much needed air on my overheated face.
His laugh pulls a smile from my lips. “Just making sure. You look a little flushed.”
Surprise halts my response as he takes a left turn away from downtown instead of the expected right. “We’re not going to town?”
He shakes his head as an unusual smile blooms on his face. If I didn’t know any better, I would say Kamden Stryker is nervous. “Definitely not going downtown.”
I settle back into my seat and cross my legs. “Now I’m really curious.”
His nervous smile turns into his usual smirk. “Patience, Sunshine. Patience.”
Thirty minutes later, Kam pulls off the two-lane road we’ve been on for the past ten minutes. Dust billows behind us as the tires sink into the dirt road.
The tiredness brought on by the smooth movements around the curves of the road vanishes as my head swivels around us. The trees grow dense on either side of the truck as we bump along the dirt road. “Is this where you take people to kill them?”
Genuine humor lights his eyes as his booming laugh fills the cabin of the truck. “It wouldn’t be smart to tell you, now would it?”
I mimic his smile as he navigates the winding turns like a pro. “You’re not giving me much confidence in my situational awareness.”
His voice has a lightness I’m not sure I’ve heard from him before. “You don’t need any if you're with me.”
My head falls back against the headrest as the road turns into a steep incline. “Wyatt is going to hate what this is probably doing to his truck.”
