Love At First Gear Ch 01

The truck rattled down the highway as the sun set through the barren winter trees. Mack had driven trucks since he had turned 18. In ten years he had seen a lot of weird things, and hitchhikers were nothing new. But he had never stopped for any hitchhiker, not once. Every truck driver has heard the gory stories about serial killers and drug addicts that climbed aboard a truck just to take advantage of the driver. Mack had a secret weapon, so he didn't worry too much about what other people would do to him. He worried more about what he might do to them, so he never stopped for hitchhikers.

His seat bounced as the truck trundled along the snowy highway. While the rutted ice was bad enough, the potholes beneath the fresh blanket of snow and ice weren't helping matters. He wondered if anyone ever maintained this road as he noted that all of the tree branches were broken off at truck-height. It was frequently used by trucks, even if no one was taking care of it. More importantly there was no traffic on this road and he would always take an abandoned highway with a few potholes over a congested freeway. A congested freeway during a snowstorm might as well be the 10th circle of Hell, in his opinion.

He looked down at his GPS. 79 miles to the truck stop, and just enough time left on his clock to make it there before he had to shut it down for the night. Yawning, he looked up from the glowing tablet and saw a young woman standing on the side of the road. He had excellent sight but somehow hadn't seen her until he was practically on top of her. In his surprise he slammed on the brakes, not meaning to stop and pick her up, but that was how she interpreted it.

"Well, fuck." He muttered to himself as he turned on his emergency flashers and brought the truck to a complete stop. He would feel like an asshole if he had to explain to this girl that he didn't want a passenger, but he really didn't want anyone in his truck. Not this close to the full moon.

Before he could unbuckle and climb across the cab to explain, the door was open and she was hauling herself into the passenger seat, followed by a blast of biting cold air and a smattering of snowflakes. He recoiled.

"Holy shit, is it really that cold out there?" He looked down at the dash. He hadn't noticed the temperatures had dipped so far below freezing, but the truck informed him the outdoor air temperature was 7 measly degrees. He couldn't make her walk wherever she was going after giving her the hope of a warm ride, and he sighed as he settled back into his seat and fastened his seatbelt.

Checking the mirrors he saw that no one was waiting for him to move the enormous vehicle. His unwanted passenger was pretty, her cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold, ice forming in her light brown hair. "How long have you been out there?"

She smiled at him. "A couple hours."

He grimaced. "Do you still have all your toes?"

She laughed. A pretty laugh, he thought. "I think so," she answered in surprisingly good spirits.

Mack checked the mirrors again. "How far do you need to go?"

She shrugged. "You can just let me out wherever."

He sat back in his seat and put the truck in gear. "You don't have anywhere to go, I take it."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head.

Mack bit his lip. "I'm not really supposed to have passengers..."

"I can get out. I don't want you to get in trouble." She made to grab the backpack she had slung onto the floor of the cab as she climbed in.

"No, it's okay. I can at least take you to the truck stop. I don't think you should hitchhike with truckers, though."

"Why not? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She laughed.

He shook his head. "A lot of these guys are nuts. Weirdos. If they could work with other people, they would, but they can't so they drive trucks." He thought about all the crazy things he had seen and overheard at truck stops through the years. He would never want anyone he cared about to take a ride with a trucker they didn't know. Most of them were good guys that just didn't like other people, but those ones wouldn't let a hitchhiker into their trucks either, most likely. The ones that would, well...

"Why are you out here anyway?" He wondered if that was too blunt. Without many opportunities to work on his social skills he was certain that they were rusty.

"My dad kicked me out."

He sucked in a breath as he thought,

oh shit, Mack, now you've really done it. You picked up a kid!

"Uhhh... how old are you?" He demanded gruffly as he slowed the truck slightly, preparing to evict his underage passenger.

The young lady laughed again. "I'm 25, don't worry."

"Oh." The truck accelerated as his heart slowed to a normal rate.

"My dad's wife, sorry, my

stepmother

, thought I should move out." Mack couldn't help but notice her voice turn bitter at the mention of this other woman.

"I sense you don't much care for this stepmother of yours."

Another pretty laugh.

At least she has a good sense of humor

, he thought to himself.

"I moved back home last year after I finished my master's," she paused as she considered how to summarize a long story, "and it was fine at first, just me and dad."

He waited a few seconds before prompting, "and then?"

"A couple months ago he decided to go on one of those cruises for singles of a certain age, and he met this

woman

," she said the last word like what she really meant was "harpy."

Mack snorted.

"They got married on some island before the cruise was even over."

"Oh no!" Mack exclaimed in real horror.

"Oh yeah!" She retorted. "He came home and he was like, 'meet your new mother', and it wasn't long before she told him she didn't want to share a home with another adult woman. So here I am."

The cab was quiet for a while, except for the rattling of all of Mack's worldly possessions inside the cabinets. He could feel the sadness and grief radiating from the woman beside him, and although he had only known her for a few minutes, he felt responsible for her happiness, at least for the night. He realized he didn't have the faintest clue of how to restore it.

After a while she spoke again. "I just don't get it," she said, "I thought we were having fun. Movie night, fishing, doing stuff he always said he wanted to do more of when I was a kid. I guess he was lonely, but..."

"I've never understood men that leave their families for sex with someone new." The words were out of his mouth before he'd had time to think about them. He could feel the blush in his cheeks rising as soon as his own words hit his ears. "I mean-" his brain scrambled for damage control, but she cut him off.

"No, you're absolutely right. Me too. I'm not a baby and I get it, but I also

don't get it

. You know what I mean?"

Mack nodded.

"I was just going to live there until I start my PhD next year, but, I probably won't do that now."

Mack's brain was running at top speed as he tried to remember how to talk to other people. "I want to know more about that, but first, my name is Mack, I'm 28, and I'm a truck driver."

She laughed. "I'm Ashleigh, I'm 25, and your name is Mack but you drive-"

"An International. Yeah, I know." They both laughed.

"So, Ashleigh, what do you study?"

Finally, a normal question!

, he thought to himself.

"Psychology."

"Oh, that's too bad," he replied.

Ashleigh frowned. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Too smart for me, then."

Thankfully she was laughing again, and he found himself pleasantly surprised at how fast the time passed with his companion. He had always assumed a passenger would make the days seem longer, but maybe he'd never met the right person before. They talked about music, trucking, college life, and everything else between. Soon the glowing yellow sign of the truck stop loomed ahead.

"Look," he was searching for the words to say what he wanted to say, but he didn't even know what he wanted to say.

"I know, it'll be okay. I'll find another ride."

"No... here's the thing. I live in this truck, and I have to stop for the night. I don't see any hotels out here and I don't want you to go try your luck at the truck stop with some other weirdo. Do you have anyone you can call? I take a week off and go hiking every month, so in a couple days I'm out of here and I don't want to leave you at another truck stop."

She was quiet while he looked for an empty spot large enough for the truck and trailer.

"I don't have much family, and I don't have a plan. I don't actually have any idea what I'm going to do." Her voice quivered a little as she spoke the last sentence.

He sighed. "You can't hang around the truck stop for too long, they'll call the police. But, if you want, this truck actually has two bunks, and no one has ever slept in the top bunk."

She couldn't hide her surprise. "I can't let you do that for me, we only just met and I've already imposed on you."

He shrugged. "I don't want to see that you got a ride with someone and ended up on a milk carton, so, let me help you out. Unless you're not comfortable sharing the bunk with me. I totally understand, we just met and everything. I could be a weirdo, too. You wouldn't know it. Actually, I am a weirdo. Just not like,

that

kind of weirdo." He hoped that his awkwardness came off as endearing and maybe even a little bit charming, rather than just dorky and ill-adjusted. His thoughts were derailed when he spotted an empty parking spot. His heart thrilled at the sight of an open, and free, parking spot. They were lucky the truck stop was in the middle of nowhere; in a bigger city they would have been relegated to parking on the side of the road this late at night, as all the truck spots would have been full hours ago. He glanced at the clock and realized that even the paid spots should have been taken by now.

I guess that's one good thing about snowstorms

, he thought as he lined up to back into the spot.

His passenger chuckled and mulled it over as he backed the truck into his chosen spot. She really didn't have anywhere to go until her program started in the spring, and if he could buy her a few days she might be able to come up with a place to stay or a job to get her through this rough patch. That would be better than riding in some other guy's truck, maybe a weirdo like he said, that would expect her to pay for the ride with her body rather than conversation.

"If you really want to help me, I won't say no," she finally said aloud as Mack finished parking the truck.

He nodded. "Good. I'll sleep better knowing you're not out there trying your luck. Now to find something to eat..." he trailed off as he scanned the horizon. They were really in the middle of nowhere, and it was pretty late. She grinned. "So I get the top bunk? Awesome! I always wanted a bunk bed."

He chuckled. "It's not that great, but it's clean and has never been slept in. I gotta move some shit first," he said as he unbuckled and rose, stretching as he did so. It didn't matter how old you were, sitting for hours on end took a toll on a person, and he was looking forward to his week off. Hiking and being out in the open would be good for his wolf-heart.

Soon, but not yet,

he told himself.

Mack parted the curtains that divided the cab and turned on the bunk lights. The top bunk served as a storage area for him since he never had a co-driver or passenger. He quickly moved the boxes and bags of dried food, extra clothing, and camping equipment to the driver seat and the floor around it. "There we go," he announced when he finished. "Let's hit the bathrooms and grab something to eat. I'm starving."

They both climbed out the passenger side of the truck, since the driver's side was now a leaning tower of camping supplies, and he guided his passenger through the darkened parking lot to the glowing warmth of the truck stop. Even though, or perhaps because of being in the middle of nowhere, the truck stop was enormous and the inside was packed full of everything imaginable. CDs, air fresheners, DVDs, clothing, blankets, ready-to-eat food, fruits, vegetables, and other raw ingredients, a small selection of shoes, a rack of flip-flops, beach towels, and souvenirs lined the shelves. Music blared over the tin can speakers and neon and flickering fluorescent lights illuminated the overwhelming space. After the quiet and dark of the truck cab it felt like a full-on assault on the senses. The artificial scents of the innumerable air fresheners present was the pine tree-shaped cherry on top.

Ashleigh couldn't help but make a face. "How do you stand it?" She asked Mack. He shrugged. "Stand what?" He seemed completely unbothered as he spotted and then made a beeline for the hot food case. She followed him, taking in everything along the way. She didn't have much money and wasn't sure what she wanted to spend it on. Getting lost in thought, she wandered aimlessly through the racks of bizarre merchandise on her way to Mack. She snapped back to reality when she heard him ordering from the lone cashier that was still working so late at night.

"Can I get a hot chicken plate," he paused and then called to her, "honey, what do you want?"

She was startled. Honey? Maybe he was Southern and just called everyone honey. She was so surprised it took her a moment to realize he was buying her dinner. "Oh, uh," the menu was gibberish to her in her stunned and over-stimulated state, "the same thing you're having." He shrugged. "She wants the same thing," he relayed to the cashier, who nodded and filled another styrofoam container with an abundance of hot chicken, massive potato wedges, and coleslaw. It was obvious to Ashleigh the cashier was trying to clean out what was left so he could close down the hot food counter for the night. She had worked more than one fast food job during her college adventures and fondly remembered the extra giant orders she would give away on the nights she closed, and the smiles on people's faces as they realized their 10 piece nugget was a 30 piece nugget instead.

"Do you have a fridge?" the cashier asked Mack. Mack nodded. "Cool," said the cashier, as he grabbed another container and loaded it with a random selection of what was left in the case. Mack expressed his thanks and dropped a ten-dollar-bill into the tip cup. The man, who barely looked old enough to be working alone at night, gave an exuberant, "thanks, man!" as he rang up the order. "Hang on," Mack said before turning his attention to Ashleigh, "you want dessert?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. His generosity was very surprising to her after how she had been treated by her own family lately. "Oh, that's too much-" she started to say, but he laughed. "Well if I'm going hiking for a week I want some dessert before I leave civilization, so suit yourself."

He helped himself to the dessert case and, she decided, if he was having dessert, she might as well. Mack whispered over his shoulder as she approached, "don't eat the Boston cream pie, thank me later," as he turned back to the cashier. Settling on a gigantic slice of chocolate cake, she slid it onto the counter alongside his slice of cheesecake.

They took turns visiting the restrooms and holding the bounty of food they'd ended up with. After a quiet stroll across the parking lot they were back within the warm confines of the truck cab. Mack set the food on the bottom bunk and invited her to take a seat, then he moved around the cab of the truck closing all the curtains. "It'll help us stay warm in here if we close this, too," he explained as he closed the bunk curtains and turned the bunk heater up as far as it would go. Then he sat down on the opposite end of the bunk and spread the food out between them.

They were both starving and at first they ate in relative silence. She was so grateful for the food and the warm place to stay, and she wondered what she would have done if Mack hadn't come along. He ate, seemingly bothered by absolutely nothing in the world.

Suddenly the silence was broken by Mack as he said, "oh," then reached over and turned on a small TV she hadn't noticed before. "Do you like to watch anything in particular?" He jerked his head toward the screen. She shook her head. She hadn't really had time to watch TV in years and didn't even know what was on anymore. He nodded and flipped through the channels until he found one that just played music. "You like music?" she asked. He shrugged. "It's noisy at truck stops, and it drowns it out. Usually."

"Usually? How loud does it get around here?" Again with the shrug. "One time a guy was backing into the space next to me and he accidentally floored it, hit the truck beside him." Mack laughed a little as he recounted the event.

"What?!? No way!"

He nodded, "some people weren't meant to drive trucks, man."

She laughed. His sense of humor was so straightforward she wondered if he even knew what he was about to say was funny sometimes.

"Then there's the reefers, that's refrigerated trailers, running on and off all night, and the trucks with air leaks, and the lot lizards..." he trailed off.

"Do they bother you?" She wondered if he had something against sex workers.

He nodded and shook his head in a non-committal fashion. "They go around knocking on the doors at night, sometimes. Some of them just try once and go to the next truck, but some will pound on the door until they get an answer." He chewed for a minute. "It's sad. I feel for them but, a lot of 'em are on drugs and I don't want them to get into my truck, so I just yell at them to go away."

That was sad

, she thought. "It must work if they keep doing it," she offered.

"Oh yeah," he laughed, "there's always guys that will let them in their trucks. Sometimes when I can't sleep I sit up front and watch the truck stop. I'll see 'em hop out of one truck, straighten up their clothes, then go to the next truck and so on. Rough life," he trailed off. It would be weird if he said anything more about it, he decided, and thankfully the meal seemed to have caught her attention again.

The food was surprisingly good, better than Ashleigh had hoped truck stop food would be, anyway.

Maybe I'm just really hungry

, she thought to herself. She watched Mack eat his entire meal, then eye the box of extra food the cashier had given him. He met her eye, "you want any of that?" he asked. She shook her head no, and he helped himself to it, then ate every last crumb of his dessert. She wondered how he stayed so fit, but hiking for a week every month was probably the whole explanation.

Before long the meal was over and Mack had changed the TV channel over to one that played old movies twenty-four hours a day. With food and driving out of the way, Mack's attention was drawn to something else in the truck, and try as he might, he couldn't ignore the scent of her.

It's just the full moon making me like this

, he told himself,

there's no way she smells that good

. So much of his life was about scent; lycans could smell others from a considerable distance, and he had always relied on his sense of smell to understand people, lycan and otherwise. But Ashleigh's scent was jamming his senses and overriding everything else now that he didn't have more pressing matters to focus on. He wanted her.

No

, he told himself,

I'm just lonely and I haven't been around a woman in way too long, and what the hell are we even watching? Focus, dummy!

The conversation ebbed and flowed as the bunk warmed up, and soon Ashleigh was yawning in spite of herself. As sleepiness sunk its claws into her she had relaxed and slumped over a bit, and was embarrassed when she realized she was leaning against Mack. "Sorry," she muttered as she tried and failed to straighten up. It seemed like the more she struggled the further she sank into the mattress.