AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No!” I bark louder than needed, cutting her off. “No, don’t put him on the phone. I’m just calling to tell you that I’m not missing. I’m legally an adult now and chose to leave town. You can tell him and everyone else that I’m never coming back.”
“Well, now, hold on. Let’s talk this through, Dolores. Your dad is mighty upset and concerned about you. We all are.”
“No, he’s not. The only thing he’s upset about is losing one of his punching bags. So you just tell him what I said, that I’m never coming back and don’t want anyone looking for me.” I’m halfway to hanging up when I bring the phone back to my ear. “Oh! And you can also tell him I said to go fuck himself!”
I slam the phone down in its cradle and spin in Wyatt’s arms. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap them around me, pulling me close to his chest. I’m so emotionally fried and anxious right now that, even though he’s put me through hell today, I sink into his embrace and slide my arms around his thick waist, hugging him back. It’s like hugging a giant teddy bear, and I bury my face in his shirt as I silently start to cry. You’d think I’d be all out of tears by now, but they just keep coming. Wyatt drops little kisses into my hair, and it feels so damn good to feel like someone actually gives a shit about me for once, even if it’s not true.
“Well, I guess now I know for sure why you ran away.” He squeezes me harder for another minute, then breaks the hug to cup my face with both hands, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. Tilting my head back, he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes as his kiss lingers and nod when he says in a low voice, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
He leans over to pick up the bags he had dropped on the ground, then loops his arm around my shoulders. We walk slowly across the parking lot, and as he did before, he opens the truck door, gently picks me up, and settles me on the seat.
Wyatt
I can breathe easier now that I have Dolly back in my passenger seat, knowing she’s going to let me take care of her and fix what I broke earlier. I certainly don’t deserve this second chance she’s giving me—I know that—but I’ll do everything I can for her from here on out.
For a long minute, all I can do is stand there and stare up at her beautiful, sad eyes. How could I have gone off on this sweet girl and abandoned her like I did? How did I look into her gorgeous blue eyes, see the flush on her cheeks and wide, happy smile, and say those awful things to her? I snap out of it when she starts squirming in her seat self-consciously at my staring, and I close the door.
Pulling back onto the highway, I hand Dolly my phone when she asks for it so she can look up the next closest pharmacy on my route. I’ll admit, I almost drove right past the first one when she told me why she needed to stop there. I know I had no business cumming inside her, and I have absolutely no right to decide whether or not she takes the morning after pill.
She should take it.
Yet I stalled when a vision of the future family I could have with her flashed before me. Not that she would ever want that, least of all with me.
I take my eyes off the road to check on her, thankful she can’t read my mind. She’s curled up with her feet on the seat and looks so tiny and somber as she checks the map. She tells me when to exit for the next pharmacy, and I force my selfish thoughts away.
* * *
By the time we leave the fourth pharmacy empty-handed, I can’t afford any more delays, not after all the time I lost over my stupid decision to leave her and then doubling back. All of the pharmacies have said just about the same thing—they don’t keep the pill in stock, and two of them even handed over the same type of pregnancy crisis pamphlets the first pharmacist did.
If I had a nickel for every time I felt ashamed of myself today, I’d be able to quit trucking altogether. I’m ashamed that I’ve been silently relieved each time we struck out and walked out without the little pill that would prevent Dolly from getting pregnant with my baby. It’s just more proof that I’m not a good man.
“I’m sorry, Dolly. We’ll figure it out,” I say, trying to reassure her, but she only stares silently out the passenger window.
I leave her to her thoughts while mine remain on her. I can’t seem to stop thinking of this girl, inexplicably drawn to her. She’s become my obsession overnight, and I know I need to get myself under control.
Since she doesn’t want to talk, I try to distract myself by popping in an earbud to listen to an audiobook, but my mind keeps drifting back to her. The audiobook is going in one ear and right out the other as I recall what it felt like to slide my bare dick through her soaking wet slit. How she moaned and writhed and screamed my name when she came.
I pull the earbud out and throw it in the console in frustration. I feel like shit when Dolly flinches, and I apologize yet again.
Chapter 11
Dolly
My mind is a mess trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next. With no clear solutions magically appearing out of thin air that will fix all of my problems, I give up for the time being and try to force all my what-ifs? aside.
I settle into my seat more, trying to get comfortable for the long hours we’ll spend here until we reach our next stop. If I could sleep up here, I would. I wish I could escape the reality of my situation into the dream world, but I already know it won’t work, and I’ll be just that much more frustrated if I keep trying.
Even though I’m on guard when it comes to Wyatt, I can’t just sit here in silence for the next however many hours, so I break it by asking him, “How long have you been a truck driver?”
Wyatt looks surprised I’ve decided to speak to him beyond giving him directions, but he quickly answers. “I got my CDL right after high school, so I’m coming up on twenty years soon.”
“Oh, so that would mean you’re, what? Thirty-seven, thirty-eight?”
He clears his throat, “Yeah, thirty-seven now.”
“So when you said you were old enough to be my father, you weren’t exaggerating. Wow.”
His ears go red at the tips, and I can’t hold back the unexpected giggle that bubbles up when I see how flustered this rough and tough man gets. The flush starts to spread the more I stare at him, and now his whole face—what’s not covered by his beard—is red now, too. I snort at his reaction, which makes me giggle even harder. It feels so good to laugh after such a miserable day. Eventually, Wyatt relaxes a bit when my giggling subsides, and he’s even sporting a small smile of his own.
