6

We're back at your truck, refilling the gas tank and trying to get some of the thick mud off our faces before it dries too much when you pluck the rag out of my hands.

"You keep missing a spot," you say and place your hand on my shoulder to keep me still.

You wink, and my insides turn to lava. You're still standing close, and you keep looking down at my lips. I think you're going to kiss me, but you don't.

I totally would have let you, by the way.

We give up on trying to get clean, considering we're about to head back out. I wait for you to hop on, but you ask me if I want to drive this time.

"Really?"

It's not common to see a guy riding on the back of a rig out here. It isn't a sexist thing; it just doesn't happen around here very often.

"Yeah. I trust you not to flood the engine or kill me. Let's go."

You climb on behind me and wrap your muscular arms around my waist, your hands resting on my belt buckle.

I squirm to get comfortable, and your hold tightens.

"Bella," you whisper in my ear, your voice full of warning?

"What?"

"Nothing. Be careful putting her in first."

I ask you to elaborate because my rig is just a smaller version of yours, and you chuckle. And then you wrap one of your hands around my thigh and help me coax your ATV into first gear.

I don't expect the power behind a bigger engine and almost run into the side of your truck. I'm mortified, but you just squeeze my leg and laugh.

"Let's go, Lovely."