Possessive Best Friend

I turn back to my computer and start working again, trying to push him out of my head. But around midday, I get a call from my guy down at the garage.

“Your truck’s here,” he says.

I can’t help but smile. “Really? That’s fast.”

“Yeah, guess the dealer was in a hurry. Had customers waiting on those two black ones, so.”

“Good for him. I’m coming down for it. Have it out for me.”

“Roger that, boss.” He hangs up. I save what I’m doing before I head outside. The truck is sitting out by the curb, parallel to the garage. The key’s on the dash and it’s open, so I climb in, start the engine, and connect my phone to the Bluetooth.

“Call Lora Lofthouse,” I say as I slowly pull out of the dealership.

“Calling Lora.”

The phone rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey,” she says. “I knew you couldn’t go a whole day without talking to me.”

I smile to myself. “Not even gonna deny it.”

“What’s up? Just wanted to hear my pretty voice?”

“That, and I got a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m on my way over right now. Are you decent?”

“Uh—”

“Better if you’re not. Come out and greet me in whatever skimpy outfit you’re wearing.”

“Don’t be a dick,” she says with a laugh. “How far are you?”

“Ten minutes. See you soon.”

I hang up the call and keep driving.

For a small town, Loftville isn’t bad. It’s pretty and well-kept at least. Houses are nice and decently spacious. Cost of living isn’t too high. There’s a decent grocery store, some shops and restaurants, a bar and such, that sort of stuff. There’s not much in the way of entertainment, unfortunately, but we’re looking to change all that.

It’s easy to hate this town. Putting aside its quaint little vibe, everyone knows everyone. There aren’t all that many jobs available. And it’s not growing anytime soon. Most folks born in Loftville stay in Loftville forever. They meet their future wife in high school and marry her way too young. They have too many kids and end up regretting every little choice they made.

But the town itself… it’s not the town’s fault. It’s the culture in the town. I know opening a car wash and an indoor fun zone isn’t exactly changing lives, but maybe it’ll show people that there’s possibility in life. There’s always potential, so long as you’re living.

I park outside of the manor’s gates and spot Lora jogging down toward me. She slips through the bars and stands catching her breath as I climb out of the truck. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tight white t-shirt, he hair piled up on top of her head.

“Why’d you run?” I ask. “I could’ve waited.”

“Sorry. I was running… A little late... So I had to… Jog.” She groans. “I’m so out of shape.”

I laugh and throw an arm around her. She leans against me as I gesture at the truck. “Here it is.”

“What?”

“This is a Ford F-150 Limited, fully loaded, totally tricked out.”

She gapes at me. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Absolutely.”

“You got it so…”

“Fast?” I shrug. “What can I say, I’m impressive.”

“No kidding.” She walks over and runs her fingers down its side. “Is it nice?”

“It’s pretty nice,” I say. “I mean, it’s not the nicest truck in the world, but it’s the best F-150 you can buy.”

“How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I let the words slip out of my mouth and I’m not sure why. I think it was my father’s warning from earlier, infecting me, but I don’t want her to pay for it. I want to do it.

She laughs. “Come on, really. How much?”

“I’m not kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

“Dean. This is a massively expensive truck and I’m stupid rich. Let me just pay for it. There’s no reason—”

“I can afford it,” I say. “So don’t worry.”

“Dean.” She glares at me.

“Lora.” I smile right back.

We have a long staring match but finally she shakes her head. “Fine,” she says. “Go ahead and pay for it. But it’s stupid, there’s no reason for it.”

“I’ll give you one reason.” I walk over to her. She steps back and runs into the truck, her head tilted up toward me.

I reach back and take her hair and kiss her. I kiss her slow and deep, tasting her lips, loving the way she throws herself at me like she needs more. She moans into my kiss and I slowly break it off, staring into her eyes.

“I’m paying because I want to and because I can,” I whisper. “And because you deserve a man that isn’t just taking your money.”

“Dean…”

“Understand that,” I say. “I’m not interested in what you can do for me.” I tighten my grip on her hair. “I’m interested in what I can give you.”

She bites her lip and nods once. “Okay. I understand.”

“Good.” I let her go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”