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Visibility wasn’t too bad until they climbed higher, ready to traverse the bridge. Then it became terrible. The steel girders were almost invisible, the clouds of fine red dust hanging heavy in the air like a fog. The outline of the abutment tower came up on them as they rose to cross the bridge, and Bryce changed gears, reading the growl of the engine.
Without lifting his baseball-mitt-sized hand from the gearstick, he flicked on the radio to a classic rock station. She usually skipped over it—listening to songs from the prior century wasn’t really her thing… except on road trips. She grinned, her excitement ratcheting up again when Cole murmured, “Nice.” It seemed that they all enjoyed it on this kind of trip.
Bryce hummed along with the song, his fingers tapping away in time with the drumbeat. “This is an awesome song. Do you know it?”
“I think I’ve heard it before, but I wouldn’t say I know it,” Ava answered, adding, “But I like it.”
“‘Time of Your Life’ was our end of season song back in the day. I played on the same team as my brothers, and when I hit my teens, with the adults, so they all knew it.”
“What sport?” Ava asked, looking up at him. She was probably staring, but she couldn’t help it. He was so damn pretty. Happiness radiated from him even when he was concentrating on the unenviable task of driving through red mist.
“League,” he replied like the answer was obvious before he shot her a cheeky grin. He was teasing her, but all Ava could think about were the muscles stacked on muscles that she spied from the side of his loose singlet, and those deft hands. A quiver skittered through her.
“What position?” She cleared her throat, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“I’m a prop.” Her eyes widened, and he must have mistaken it for cluelessness because he laughed good-naturedly and added, “It’s on the front row. I’m one of the battering rams that push the other team’s defence back so we can get the ball to the try line. You do know what a try line is, don’t you?”
Ava narrowed her gaze and elbowed him gently in the side. “I know what a try line is. I know what a prop does too, and most of the rules… of league, at least. Not so much union.” Bryce flicked his eyes down at her, and the approval in his gaze warmed her insides. His grin never left his lips, but it had turned hungry.
“Would we know the team you play for?” Cole asked, startling her. It wasn’t that Ava had forgotten he was there—how could she when their shoulders were brushing—but she hadn’t expected him to speak. Cole ran the backs of his fingertips down her arm, soothing her fright and leaving tingles in his wake. Ava swallowed, her eyes slipping closed as she shivered.
“Easts.” Bryce’s voice was low and the rasp in it was sexy as hell.
It took a moment for the team to register. Easts Lightning were one of the oldest and biggest clubs in the league. They were her team, one she followed religiously. “You’re a professional player? I thought you were a student?” Why hadn’t she seen his name or photograph before? She thought she knew every player on the roster.
“I’m in the reserves for the moment. But I’ll get there. What about you, Cole?” Bryce asked, redirecting their conversation.
“I work construction. I’m a chippie.”
Ava slid her gaze sideways, watching the serious man curiously. He frowned, the line on his forehead deepening as his lips turned down. His jaw flexed like he was clenching it, and his fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm on his knee.
“I supervise a few crews who look after putting up house frames, but that’s only new. I prefer being more hands-on; I’m better on the tools.” He went quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’ve done plenty of other carpentry work—fix outs, some specialized joinery work—building decorative timber screens, fretwork and corbels, custom window framing, that sort of thing. But, yeah, I prefer being on the tools.”
Ava clasped her hands together, resisting the urge to reach out to Cole. Something told her that this was an intensely personal moment he’d shared, and he needed to work through his emotions.
They passed through the inner city without seeing more than a handful of cars, their headlights casting an eerie glow in the haze, and headed north. The whole scene was unnerving. Red dust blanketed the city, permeating everything. It swirled around them like mist, the gusts of wind funnelled by the buildings buffeting the truck. Even with the air on recycle, the dust in the truck’s cab was palpable. A fine layer had settled on them, the green of her singlet smudged with red marks where it came to rest in the folds.
When Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” came on, Bryce belted out the lyrics with gusto and a sparkle in his eye while Ava relaxed back against the seat watching him. He was so at home in his own body, so sure of himself. He wasn’t shy or self-conscious, and Ava admired that confidence. It certainly hadn’t come easy to her. She’d much rather curl up on the couch and read a book than socialize. That and her competitiveness reflected her lack of friends. She just hadn’t ever found her people. At least she hoped that was it. It didn’t matter anyway; work kept her busy enough that it was only a couple of nights a week she missed having company.
She tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, going back to staring at Cole out of the corner of her eye. God, he was beautiful. Even the line marring his forehead—the “what the fuck?” crease she saw on anyone who worked with a lot of people—was sexy.
The piece of hair fell straight back into place, blocking her view. Ava’s hair wasn’t perfectly straight, but not curly either, and the layers her hairdresser had cut in it were frustrating her. She lifted her butt up enough that she could slip her hand awkwardly into the back pocket to try and snag her tie.
Gentle fingers on her face stilled her movement, and she turned to Cole once more as he tucked the lock back behind her ear. She sucked in a breath at the raw heat in his eyes. His lips glistened from where his tongue darted out to lick them before his teeth slowly sank down. Ava’s heart beat wildly, and she leaned into him, instinctively closing the gap between them.
Fingertips grazed the leg she had pressed against Bryce, and she startled, freezing in place. Eyes wide and breath sawing in and out of her lungs, Ava blinked, snapping herself out of the lusty spell Cole had weaved. She faced forward, clenched her jaw, and crossed her legs, fighting against their willingness to throw themselves open for either of these gorgeous men. Or both.
It was temporary insanity. She was overwhelmed by the pheromones in the truck. That’s what it was. It had to be that.
Or maybe it was them. Maybe they made her brave enough to try something crazy. It wasn’t just their attention either. It was the instant cocoon that wrapped around her in their presence, protecting her while at the same time lifting her up and letting her fly free. For the first time, Ava knew in her gut that she could do anything. She was proud of her achievements, but she’d had to work incredibly hard for every one of them. Right now, the sensation of floating fizzed in her veins, like she was riding high and flying free. The weightlessness and the excitement felt a lot like potential. It was as if doors were opening and she was seeing a new path before her, one she didn’t even know existed, never mind wanted to follow.
*****
The first few hours flew by, and Ava enjoyed the easy company. She and Bryce talked and laughed while Cole rolled his eyes and scowled. They listened to music and played a really bad game of I-spy.
But as they hit the fifth hour in the truck together, time crawled to a halt. They’d stopped for fuel once and Cole offered to drive, he and Bryce swapping seats. Ava was still pressed between them. She was still breathing in their spicy scents too, making her brain fuzzy and her body antsy.
At least when they filled up next, Ava could stretch her legs and snap out of her lust-soaked daze with some icy water. She needed to shake out the excess energy too, because if she didn’t, Ava was going to combust.
