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“Thank you,” I tell Brand as he hands me a drink and slides into the booth to sit next to me. His big form is so massive that I’m practically squished into the corner, but I don’t mind. “This place is really interesting!” I exclaim, looking around the bar. It’s pretty much what I’ve seen in movies. A long, rough-hewn piece of wood serves as the bar, and all around us, cowboys in big hats nod and tip beers at one another. But the girls aren’t cowgirls, at least not in any real sense. Instead, they’re wearing slutty clubbing clothes with high heels, so they won’t be roping any cattle in the next few hours.

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it,” Brand growls. “Good folks, quality alcohol, and a pretty girl. What else can a man ask for?” he winks.

My heart flutters again. Oh wow, he always makes me feel so special, and I hide my blush by taking a long sip of my drink. The fruity flavor lingers on my tongue, but I’m not quite sure what it is because I haven’t had too much alcohol in my life, despite my naughty ways. I’ve tasted beer every now and then, and had a sip of wine on fancy occasions, but I’m pretty out in the dark when it comes to identifying hard liquor. Whatever this cocktail is, though, it tastes good with its sweet notes of sugary something.

“So,” I clear my throat after swallowing. “Tell me about yourself, Brand. I have to admit that Jerry’s not really forthcoming, so I don’t know much.”

He grins.

“You mean, Jerry Wickshaw isn’t a total gossip?” he asks in a dry tone.

I giggle myself.

“Jerry’s a lot of things, but a gossip machine he is not.”

Brand chuckles deep in his chest.

“Well,” he starts, looking contemplative. “There isn’t too much to know, actually. I’m originally from Tennessee and I’ve been on the road practically my whole life. Happens when you’re a long-haul trucker, you know,” he winks.

I giggle.

“When did you start trucking?”

He thinks for a moment, those blue eyes going far away.

“Right after high school actually. In fact, I barely even finished high school because I wasn’t the academic type per se, and then once I hit the road, I got a taste of the life and never stopped.”

I nod.

“Yeah, I can see how that could happen. But how did you know you wanted to be a trucker so early on?” I ask curiously, tilting my head to one side.

He rolls his beer bottle between large fingers.

“It runs in the family actually. My dad was a trucker and my granddad too before him. They loved it, and I always thought it was the best job in the world when I was a little boy, so if anything, school’s always been a drag. As soon as I got my commercial driver’s license, I was all about getting out on the road asap.”

I nod.

“I take it that you like it?”

Brand looks contemplative.

“I do actually. It suits me, and if you don’t mind the solitary lifestyle, then trucking has a lot to offer. Great pay and travel, being two things.”

I nod.

“Those two aspects do seem amazing. But why are you living in Jersey? Was Tennessee too … I don’t know? Boring? Blah? Oh sorry, am I asking too much? I just know that I think Jersey’s boring, so it seems like a weird place to settle.”

Brand chuckles, the deep rumble immediately bringing a smile onto my face.

“No, Tennessee’s amazing. It’s a beautiful state and I still have family there. The truth is that it doesn’t really matter where I live. I’m on the road so much that I could live pretty much anywhere in the United States, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Well, maybe not Alaska, although I suppose I could become an ice road trucker.”

I giggle.

“Just like the show! OMG, that’s so dangerous. But honestly, even without ice or snow on the road, I don’t think I could do it because you’re basically working non-stop right? That would kill me right there.”

Brand nods.

“Yeah, we’ll have routes that last for weeks or even months, but we get breaks in between. I’m on a break now in fact,” he winks. “And I’m around enough so that I’ve been able to attend most of Jerry’s poker nights.”

I laugh.

“True true.”

Brand grins and shrugs again. “But I understand what you’re saying. I love my job, but I’ve also been on the road for about twenty-five years now so I’ve been thinking about giving it a rest. It does take a toll on you after a while, and it’s not something I expect to do forever. After all, the physical burn-out is real. Maybe we’re not doing heavy lifting, but sitting in one position for ten or twelve hours a day will kill you.”

I nod, frowning.

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