Harlow

I didn’t spend one extra second checking the rig. I should have. I checked before I had gone in the truck stop for coffee. And all was quiet back there in the cargo bay.

I felt the need to move fast. I’d encountered asshole truckers before with this job, but I’d never been anywhere near a man like the one who’d just come to my rescue. It was him, not the man who’d hit on me, who was stuck in my mind.

I put the truck in gear.

Wow, was all that I could think.

Dark and dangerous were the words that came to mind.

His long dark hair brushed his shoulders, his intense dark eyes scared the shit out of that trucker, and I could just imagine reaching out to touch that shadow of stubble over his jaw. The way he commanded the space and everything around it was undeniable. It woke me up and I hadn’t thought I had been sleeping.

He might very well inspire a few fantasies in my head but whatever he was, it was more than I could handle right now. I had a load to deliver and the cargo was going to keep me busy.

This was my sixth run for Ruff Life Dog Adoption. I was getting more skilled at handling the rig and the cargo, but still, every run there was something different.

I slowly backed out of the spot and navigated to the exit of the truck stop parking lot. This was my longest run yet for Ruff Life.

Finding homes for these animals was my calling. I started as a kid, volunteering at shelters. Now I got paid, but it wasn’t much. I was never going to get rich and I didn’t care, which was a good thing because it was the same story over and over, at every shelter I’d ever been.

There wasn’t enough money to run the shelters, much less pay the staff. I was living check to check and half the time starving. But every single time I placed an animal with a forever family, however it came to pass, I felt like I’d climbed one rung out of the hell I should be in.

Getting my trucking license for this job, well, it cost me, but Rudy did pay half.

I realized I needed to check in with him – Rudy Walls, my boss, and founder of Ruff Life.

I’d made a huge ass mistake thinking I liked him in the very beginning, as more than just a boss. I’d thought he was noble because he’d founded the dog shelter. I thought we were maybe sort of meant to be? But I’d found out that loving dogs, well, it wasn’t the basis of a relationship. At least with Rudy.

Now we had this strange relationship. He was my boss, but he was half convinced I was still interested. I was, but only in the dogs and in Ruff Life, not in Rudy. Ugh. Relating to dogs was so much easier than relating to men.

“Hey, Harlow! You on the road?” He answered my call right away. He was a stoner, so as a boss he was equal parts laid back and totally unreliable. How he ever pulled this operation together was a mystery to me.

“I am, Rudy. Cargo secure and the road’s open.”

“Good. Stay on your approved route okay?”

“Uh, okay?” He normally didn’t care two shits how I got the job done but who knew with him. He’d had a great idea with Ruff Life and he’d made it happen. Most people just don’t do shit to make the world better. Rudy cared, even though he was fucked up half the time.

I tried not to think about how we’d flirted in the beginning. He was still on that, especially when he was, uh, chemically enhanced. It was awkward, but it was half my fault. I just didn’t know how to reign it back in.

“Good. Check in tomorrow?”

“Yes, but make sure to tell Tracy to remind Jared about Maple’s food?”

“What now?” Rudy didn’t have the connection to the animals like I did. It worried me when I was out on the road. Thank God Tracy, our new part-timer and Jared our vet student, cared about details because Rudy didn’t lately.

“Maple, she’s not eating enough.”

“Oh yeah, no problem. I remember. Talk you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Rudy.” I knew Tracy would handle the Maple issue and Jared would have it solved before I returned to Ruff Life in a couple of days.

I was headed to San Nonnus, Texas.

I had six furry passengers in the truck. I had room for three times that but Rudy said he didn’t want to wait to get these dogs to their new homes, so he scheduled my trip with a lighter load than normal. San Nonnus was a small suburb but they had big hearts, Rudy said. So it was time to get them the doggies.

After I dropped them off, I was bound for Mexico and a group of dogs on the kill shelter list there. Saving animals from kill shelters was a never-ending job and one I’d never be caught up with.

The words ‘The Ruff Life’ were painted on the side of my truck but other than that, my rig looked like I could be hauling just about anything. The inside of the cargo area was equipped with special ventilation and secure crates for the passengers back there.

I was super sensitive to the treatment of animals and how they could be traumatized in transit. The accommodations for the dogs was about as gentle as possible. I hadn’t heard one complaint from a new family after one of my transports and I was proud of that.

These animals would be protected and loved. Making sure of that was my mission.

I merged into the highway lane and looked behind me. Traffic was light this morning. That was good. I check the temperature gauge for my cargo area. A nice 72 degrees. That was pretty good for the Texas heat.

I’d planned to stop once every two hours to water and walk my menagerie. It meant I’d get to San Nonnus a little slower than your average trucker but that was okay. I didn’t have average cargo.

I looked in my rearview and saw there was motorcycle behind me. I scanned all the lanes around me. The size of the rig made me very cautious. I could easily make a wrong move and crush anything in my path. I was a new enough operator of this sized vehicle that I didn’t take anything for granted. I knew I had a big rig to manage and I took that job almost as seriously as protecting my furry passengers.

I glanced in the rearview again; the motorcycle had vanished, it must have exited. I continued to check all my gauges and all the lanes around me. Thank God for the coffee in Port Az. It zipped through my system and kept me on my toes.

I looked at the GPS. It would be smooth sailing for the next 100 miles of Texas Highway. My cargo could stretch their little legs and have some water at that point.

When Rudy bought this rig, he bought the best. I had a little living area behind me, complete with bed, mini fridge, mini microwave, and pull out table. It was designed for the long haul and for minimizing the expense of hotels for the driver on these trips.

My routes were planned with rest stops in mind. My animals need water, and some open grassy area, just like I need a trucking lot to park the rig. I was getting good at knowing the best places to stop and where to avoid.

The miles passed with traffic picking up slightly as the morning wore on. I’d been at this job for less than a year but I hoped it could last. Working for animal welfare groups hadn’t exactly helped keep my bank account solvent but that’s not why I did it.

I hoped what Rudy had going with Ruff Life would thrive and become a permanent situation for me. I needed some stability.

It was a fast 100 miles and soon my stop was in sight.

I eased off the road into the truck lot of the rest stop. It was good to get out and walk around a bit. If I needed a break, so did my animals. They were my babies until I handed them off and I felt fiercely protective of them. They’d really had a rough life before they got to Ruff Life and I want to be sure that they were never abused or abandoned again.

I grabbed my bag of supplies which included, well, bags. Cleaning up after animals was part of the job.

I opened the back and was greeted with a few whines, a few barks, and indifference from the sleepier of the crew. With six animals, I could walk three at a time, so I hopefully could navigate rest stops a little faster than when I had 18 passengers. I had tried to do more than three on a lead in my first few runs for Ruff Life, but it usually turned into a tangled disaster.

Three was a good number to manage for potty breaks.

I put two lab mixes and a pit mix – the rescues were pretty much always mixes – on leads and walked them down the ramp. They all had about five minutes’ of exercise time and then it was onto the other three.

I scratched ears and checked in with each of my passengers with a belly rub.

They all seemed to be doing well and it took only about twenty minutes to handle them at this stop. That was speedy compared to the over an hour per stop it usually took me on a run with a full load of furry cargo.

Along with the crates, I had several gallons of water and food for the trip.

Most of the animals I transported were good natured and jaunty when I let them out for a walk. But I pet each one, giving each a moment or two of focused attention. Anxiety was a normal thing for a dog to experience when you changed their living circumstances. And these dogs had been rescued from abuse or kill shelters, so there were even more behaviors to look out for.

I spent a lot of time with them during the intake process. I worked with each of them to foster confidence and trained them to be good in the families to which they’d eventually be matched. And they I made them pretty! I washed, brushed, groomed, and videotaped them to share on our YouTube channel.

At Ruff Life, we prided ourselves on the idea that the families were getting a wonderful new best friend. Not a neurotic or unstable animal who couldn’t recover from the circumstances that started their lives. It’s what had drawn me to Rudy and Port Az.

I reassured all the dogs and it looked to me like every one of them was handling the journey with no sign of trouble.

“Good job, guys!” I said as I checked each crate latch.

A little yip from Tookie – the Chihuahua mixed with who knows what – reminded me they weren’t all guys.

“And good job, ladies,” I added. I loved these pups like they were my own and felt a little pang that I’d be dropping them off. But alas, as every boss I ever had said to me, I couldn’t take them all in myself.

I locked up the back and took a moment in the rest stop myself. I was the last priority on these trips and it showed. I looked in the rest stop mirror and put a finger through my crazy hair. I was just as much of a mutt as the dogs. My hair was some sort of mix of Irish redhead and poodle. I adjusted my scarf: if I didn’t have the scarf my mop would be everywhere. I wondered what that sexy biker saw when he looked at me. Probably crazy girl who related to dogs more than people. That would be accurate.

I brushed it off. Dog smells and old t-shirts didn’t exactly put me on the hottie list. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I walked back to my rig while adding up how long this trip, with rest stops, was going to take. I’d need the new owners alerted so they could be there at pick up. It was my favorite part of the job, seeing these new forever families meet each other.

As I walked back to my truck I saw a man leaning up against it. He was wearing leather, not too different than the biker at the truck stop before, but instead of handsome smolder, I sensed something entirely different. There was a smile on his face but something felt immediately off. He had long legs and arms and longish hair that looked like it could use a good washing. Some to think of it, the rest of him probably could stand the same.

I kept walking to my rig but slowed my pace. I looked around. Was I alone with this guy? Was it going to be another asshole who thought I was a hooker or something?

As liberated as this country was supposed to be, a woman, on the road alone, driving a big rig, was like an alien life form. No one knew what to make of me or how to treat me.

I hoped that was all that this was. A man who had the wrong idea.

I took a deep breath and the man placed himself between me and the door to my truck.

“Interesting cargo you got here,” he said, and a sneer played across his lips. Was that supposed to be a smile? Ugh. This was annoying already.

“Yep. Can I help you with something?” I noticed a patch on his jacket that read “Devil’s Hawks.”

“I think you can help me with a lot of things.” The man grabbed me and before I could even process what was happening, he had me smashed up against the side of my truck. His hands were holding mine above my head and he’d pressed himself into me.

“Let me go.” I tried to process the situation I was in. It was broad daylight but there wasn’t a person around at this rest stop. If I yelled my voice would disappear into the sounds of the nearby highway. I was on my own.

He got his face up close to mine.

“I think we’re going to have a little fun before I finish this job.”

“What are you doing?” I had no doubt what fun meant in his mind. I needed to provide a knee to the groin of this asshole or I’d be in a world of trouble. He pressed his face closer and the smell of stale cigarettes made me gag. I remembered that smell all too well from my childhood.

I was beginning to panic. He held me too tight for me to kick. Fuck. I squirmed and tried to break free, but he held me tight.

Then he didn’t.

The biker from the truck stop was there, out of nowhere. He clocked my would-be attacker, and I watched as the man slid down at my feet, nearly dragging me with him as he lost consciousness.

“Holy shit!” was all I could think of to say.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded my head in answer.

“That’s twice,” I added.

“You seem to get into trouble a lot.”

“Yeah, I, well, sort of.” I did attract idiots, that was true. But this was the worst scrape I’d been in and I blocked out what might have just happened.

“My name’s Kade, Kade Davis. I suggest we get you in your rig and out of here.”

“Harlow Hayes.”

I tried to step around the man at my feet, but I was entangled.

“Here.” Kade reached a hand out and I took it as I climbed over the mess he had saved me from.

“Thank you.”

He held onto my hand and for some reason I didn’t want him to let go. Kade guided me a few more steps and I found my balance and pulled my hand back.

“I think I need to what? Call police? Or just run over him?” What I wanted to do was ride away, fast, from this ugly encounter.

“Whatever you want, miss,” Kade said and I was struck again by how fucking sexy this man was. Where had he come from? I hadn’t noticed his lips before; they were full, beautiful. I had to stop myself from staring. It dawned on me that he could be just as dangerous as the biker at my feet. Kade here was in a stunning package but very well could be the same damn thing.

“Were you following me?” I was starting to question how Kade had managed to be there to help me out twice in as many hours.

“No, just lucky to pick the same stop as you.”

He was beautiful and I didn’t want to take my eyes off him.

“Lucky for me it looks like.” Jesus, great, I’d just tried to flirt and I sucked at it. Plus it wasn’t the time. Ugh.

“You need to get in your truck and get going.”

Well, that was a pretty quick rejection. I had been given the brush off. Just as well, men were either trying to paw me or trying to pawn me off, I guess.

“I, uh, yes.”

“No, I mean – his friends, they’re coming.” He pointed to the off-ramp where two more motorcycles were exiting.

“What the hell?”

Kade opened my cab door and practically hoisted me in.

“Go.”

“But what about you?”

“How about I follow you on purpose for a while, so they get the idea.”

“Okay.” What idea? I wondered. That I had a biker guardian angel?

I didn’t think too much about it. I wanted to get out of there. Fast. At least in my truck, on the move, I’d be moving away from them, Devil’s Hawks, and this biker who’d had me thinking about his lips.

I started the truck and pulled forward to the on-ramp. Kade was out of sight for a moment as I picked up speed and merged onto the highway.

I didn’t immediately see the additional bikers, so I hoped at least I had gotten out of there before they’d realized their friend was going to have a nasty headache.

I checked all my mirrors and my heart jumped a little in my chest.

There was a man on a bike behind me. It was Kade. He saw me look and gave me a thumbs up. Okay, Kade was behind me. He’d helped me out of two scrapes this morning. But I couldn’t rely on the kindness of Mr. Dark and Dangerous. Nope. I needed to think about how to get where I was going without running into any more Devil’s Hawks or shitty truckers.

The first six runs I’d made for Ruff Life had been smooth sailing. It wasn’t easy work but it hadn’t been like this. All I’d needed to worry about was water, food, and pooper scooping. This time I’d accidentally turned into a cat toy for biker clubs and pervy truckers.

I needed to think. How could I be sure to avoid any more bullshit?

The most obvious first step was to switch up my route. I needed to stop for my cargo again in two hours, but this time it wasn’t going to be on any path. I adjusted my GPS tracker and texted my new route to Rudy. He always insisted he know where I was in the dog delivery process so he could keep the new families up to speed.

My backroad route was going to make it a lot harder for truckers, bikers, and whatever the hell else was out there, to predict my next stop. If that’s what they were doing.

As I drove, a part of me was relieved that Kade was back there. He’d done nothing but help me out today. He was my knight in worn leather.

Another part of me was warning myself to try to put distance between this stranger and me too.

But I didn’t want to. I wanted to do the opposite. I wanted to learn who Kade was and why he was there for me, out of the blue.