Chapter Ten
Chris
We both needed to settle down and calm down or we were going to blow something that had the potential to make us happy for the rest of our lives. At least he hadn’t run screaming when he realized the guy most likely to succeed was now the guy driving a big truck back and forth across the country. He didn’t even know that much. Not that I was buying my own rig in the hopes of being able to make a good living for my future family.
For now, I’d take my omega on a date. “I brought an extra helmet.” Heading out the door, I heard him mutter something behind me. I hoped it wasn’t, “No way I’m getting on a motorcycle with the likes of you,” or “What kind of a death machine is that?”
Not that I’d trade him for my bike, but…
By the time I was straddling Marcus — my pretty Harley Softail — he’d wandered out of the house and headed our way. If I hadn’t been crazy about him already, the look of awe on his face would have cemented it for me. He came to a stop next to me. “This is yours?”
I chuckled, handing him the spare helmet. “It had better be or someone is going to want their baby back.”
“Wow. So shiny!” And she was, too. He held the helmet in front of him and I took it.
“Bend down.” I slipped the black helmet with its single silver star over his head and fastened the strap under his chin. “Climb on.”
He cocked his head this way and that. “Behind you, right?”
“Unless you know how to operate a bike?” I was fairly sure he didn’t, but it must be love for me to even consider it.
“Back is fine.” He slung a long leg over the saddle and settled behind me. “All ready.”
I turned the key and revved the throttle, savoring the vibration between my legs and the man whose groin was pressed against my ass. I didn’t exactly have a two-person seat, so we were tight on there. Good. Very good.
Gave me some ideas. Most alphas, me included, preferred to take the top role. I’d never allowed another man inside any part of me but my mouth, to be clear. But as I settled Tak’s hands at my waist and instructed him on how not to lean over on curves, his cock was rising against my ass.
If he was game, I’d be willing to consider letting him fuck me sometime. Which was why I pulled into the gas station parking lot outside the next town of Haven. They had a handy section in the store for those whose evening plans included intimacy. I asked Tak to wait and was in and out in two minutes, barely long enough for Maria who owned the place to tease me about the hot omega on the back of the bike, and to make a smart-ass remark about why an alpha might need lube because omega bodies made their own slick.
I needed to do my shopping in the city.
Arriving back at the bike, I stuffed the small brown paper bag in the side pouch, but before I could climb on again, Tak caught my arm. “Are you okay?”
I stopped, helmet in hand. “Sure, why?”
“I don’t know. You’re kind of red in the face.”
I stuffed the helmet on. “It’s warm in there.”
“Oh...okay.” He rested his hands on my waist again and, as we took off, rested his head on my back. The burger joint I wanted to take him to was on the other side of Haven, a highway dive I’d heard a lot of good things about from some of my brother knights of the road but hadn’t been to.
Ten minutes later we were seated on a picnic bench outside a shack from which tendrils of delicious smoke curled. “I hope you don’t mind,” I told him. “I’d be glad to take you to the city for fine dining, but I…”
He inhaled and released a sigh. “No need to explain.” He waved at the trio of semis parked at the edge of the highway. “Truck drivers always know the best places. Let’s have whatever they are ordering.”
One of the burly guys at the next table leaned over, brandishing a huge sesame-seed studded bun encasing an even larger meat patty topped with melting yellow cheese, a ruby-red tomato slice and a sliver of pale onion. “That’s easy. They have cheeseburgers. And fries. Sodas in a cooler next to the ordering window and...that’s it.”
“Yeah,” growled the guy next to him, around a hearty bite. “That’s all they need to make.”
Tak grinned. “Sounds good to me. And smells even better.”
I pushed up from the table. “So two burgers, two fries...what to drink?”
“They have locally bottled root beer,” offered the man around yet another mouthful. “Get that.”
“Deal,” said my omega, grinning at the guy in a way that made me want to step in between them. “Thanks.” Then he turned that smile at me, and I found myself grinning back.
“I’ll get it ordered.”
The man behind the counter was an old alpha, and, as luck would have it, a retired trucker. He called our order to the woman at the grill then lumbered out from the shack and joined us. Soon he, the other truckers, and Tak were having a great time. The drivers were all regaling one another with tales of their travels, and while I usually would be joining in, this time I just watched my omega charm the pants off them. Not literally, of course, but I was proud to have someone so friendly and likable in my life. This omega who bought and sold fine antiques was expressing interest in the types of loads the drivers hauled, the miles per gallon they coaxed out of their huge trucks...and even laughing at some jokes so bad he couldn’t believe it.
Tak had the gift of making people feel good about themselves.
About the time the woman in the shack called out their order was ready, the other drivers were tossing their paper napkins and trays in the bins at the end of the table and standing up to take their leave.
“Hey, little buddy,” said the guy who’d recommended the root beer. “You don’t have a CB radio, do you?”
Of course he didn’t.
“Yes, I do, although I’ve never used it.” He shrugged at my look of disbelief. “I got it in a lot I purchased a year or so ago. It’s sitting in the back room...I wasn’t sure what to do with it.”
“I can show you,” I admitted because while many truckers now used an app on their phone, I’d always loved the old-school way of keeping in touch out on the road. It was, well, romantic. Standing to get our food, I paused. “Crimson Cape.”
Tak blinked at me. “What?”
“It’s my call sign. On the CB.”
Our new friend let out a guffaw. “I know you. It’s me. Mystic Wheels.”
Well, damn. “I’ll be damned.” I shook his hand and slapped his back. “How about that. The last time we talked you were on the road to Memphis, right? With a load of baling wire?”
“I think so. Now I’m headed all the way to the West Coast with some electronics. Never gets dull.” The other men had already climbed into their rigs as I walked Mystic to his.
“Glad we connected here,” I said, standing by his shiny silver beast. “Great truck, by the way.”
“Thanks. Great omega.” He cocked a brow. “Not many of us find someone who understands what we do, how often we have to be gone…” Something in his tone told me he’d learned that the hard way, but this wasn’t the time to have a heart-to-heart.
“I am lucky, so far. Wish us luck.”
He fist bumped me and opened the door, putting one foot on the running board. “All kinds of luck. Especially with a baby on the way.”
I gaped. “Mystic, there’s no way that...I mean, we just reconnected today after years.”
“Yeah. I’d say you connected.”
For the second time that day my cheeks flamed. “Even if we did, there’s no way you could know.”
He flashed me a smile and settled in his seat. Holding the door handle, he shook his head. “Crimson, I know things. Don’t know how, but I just do. How do you think I got my name?”
I tried to laugh it off, but I started to remember things I’d heard about him, things I’d figured were just rumors, and I had no words.
The door slammed but the window slid down, and his bearded face appeared in the opening. “Catch you on the flip side, Crimson. Better yet, I’ll stop by that antique shop next time I’m in the area. Your omega tells me he’s got some 1970s vinyl there. Motown. It holds all wisdom.”
His air horn sounded from its roof stack and he was gone. The wise man of the road. Or the nut case. I headed back for the table where either Tak or the counterman had brought our burgers and fries, not sure I could eat.
As I settled next to him, my omega hefted his burger and, holding it before his lips, said, “What do you think my CB name should be? I can’t wait to chat up all your friends,” and took a big bite, sending juices running down his chin.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Tak?” I asked, trailing a crisp fry through a puddle of ketchup in his paper dish.
“Sure!” He turned sparkling eyes on me. “That way, when I hit the road with you, I can be your radio operator.”
When he hit the...I stuffed the fry in my mouth and chewed. Crisp outside, tender inside, spicy rather than regular ketchup. “It’s not glamorous out there. Mostly it’s just long hours on boring highways. I sleep in the bunk behind the seat. Shower in basically glorified gas stations. Eat greasy food.”
He chewed and swallowed. “Not saying I’d be with you all the time, but I spend a fair amount of time, especially off season, hunting antiques, but I haven’t ever been far from here. I want to spread my wings and fly. Maybe we could combine our interests.”
I started to protest then stopped. Why argue what I’d really love to do? Especially when the image of him at my side, seeing the country all new through his eyes. “Did I tell you I own my own semi?”
“No!” His admiration was probably not deserved, but I basked in it anyway. “When can I see it?”