Short Fiction--The Guy Next Door: Part 9

There must be a God because gND is in my truck. She’s behind the wheel and I can’t stop grinning. She’s saying something, but I can’t really make it out because I’m back here working on the hitch. The woman’s agreed to help me take all of my toys to the DMV—well, at least some of them. So, I’m going to ride the bike over, and she’ll drive my Dually, hauling the box trailer with my other two bikes. I’m a blessed man.

Her long brown legs leap from the cab and stalk towards me on bare feet. Her long hair streams behind her. I’m still grinning.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“Nothing,” I say, straightening up, smirking at her from behind my Ray-Bans.

“Oh, no you don’t—not the dimple and the shoulders thing. Just tell me what you’re smirking about.”

I’ve got dimples and broad shoulders that the women seem to love. My Daddy used to say if I was anything it was practical, and that man was never wrong. Like most men, I learned long ago to use what little I’d been given well to my advantage.

“No?”

She’s standing in front of me with her arms crossed, one hip jutting out and a single eyebrow raised.  She’s close enough that I can smell her amber oil—an Indian blend she loves to wear. Yet, I’m wanting her back up in my truck. I’m waiting.

“Fine. Whatever,” she says and turns back and is just about to heave herself up onto my leather seat when she gets it.

“Holy Shit! Are you kidding me? Is that what this is all about?”

I leap over the hitch and am leaning on the passenger side window, resting my smirk on my tanned forearms, enjoying her squirm. Doesn’t happen often, but she’s blushing and I am LOVING it.

“What IS IT about a man with a chick in his truck?!”

I can only shake my head and shrug. I got nothing, but my stupid grin and I’m gonna stick with it because there sure as hell is something that happens to a guy when a woman climbs up into his rig. Ask any man who rides high—he’ll tell you. Don’t know what it is, but it’s a real enough phenomena and I’m just not inclined to delve too far into it. It is what it is and that’s all there is to it.  

“Oh, Holy Crow! Look are we gonna do this, or what?” She starts the engine pretending to be the one on top of this situation. Only she isn’t and we both know it.

I pull on my leather jacket watching her run her hand through her hair and suddenly wish I had left my hat on the seat. Because DAMN if seeing her in it wouldn’t have made my day.

“Now what?!” she barks.  I look up surprised, and embarrassed because now it’s me who’s blushing.

“Sugar, let’s ride. I’m right behind you.”  I smile broadly, again, and she shakes her head.

“Wow,” is all she can muster.

I mount my iron steed grateful for my quick recovery.