V Card Sweetheart (Sweetheart, Colorado)

Once she’s in, I shut her door and walk around to the driver’s side, pulling myself up into the cab and sitting down next to her. Already, her sweet scent fills the cab of the truck, and I inhale deeply as if I can commit it to memory that way or something.

“That was nice of you to feed Sam,” she says, looking at me like she’s looking at me for the first time or something.

“He’s good to you. You are always trying to take care of him.” I shrug my shoulders like that’s explanation enough. Doesn’t she know that anything she cares about, I do too? Maybe not yet, but she’ll understand it soon.

Jane

This is the first time I’ve ever been alone with Dutton. I fidget with my hands in my lap and try to look everywhere but at him. The inside of his truck is clean and spotless. It even smells of coconut, reminding me of that tanning lotion that I’ve used in the summer at the pool.

When the silence seems so loud in my ears and my heart starts to race, Dutton leans over and covers my hands with his. “Jane?”

I look at our hands instead of at him. His is so much bigger than mine, and his skin is darker and rougher than mine. But I like it. With just this one simple touch, he makes me feel small… dainty… protected. And I’ve never felt any of those things. I’ve always been a bigger girl. The one that’s unable to wear the short shorts because of the dimples in my thighs. And I’ve always had to find the longer shirts to cover my middle, which is soft and curvy. But being next to Dutton, with his big hands on me, I feel moisture between my legs, and the only way to relieve the pressure is by squeezing my thighs together.

“Jane, look at me, honey.”

His voice is soft but demanding.

I lift my head and look into his eyes. It’s dark in the cab, but the many lights in the parking lot streaming through the windows allows me to see the dark blue of his eyes with glints of gold. He’s staring at me, and I can see the worry on his face.

“I’m fine, Dutton. Can you take me home?”

“Why’d you go out with him?”

I knew he’d ask me, but I never dreamed that I would hear hurt in his voice. I search his face, trying to see if my actions, me going out with Martin, really bothered him. The way he’s swallowing hard, his chest hitching like it’s hard for him to take a breath, and the pained look on his face tells me that he doesn’t approve of what I did. I can’t say I blame him, but I don’t understand why.

So I decide to be as honest with him as I can. “I get asked out all the time. But it’s always truckers that are passing through. Martin was the first person from around here that asked me. I didn’t think it was a big deal, it was one date. But I had no idea he heard me telling Pepper that I was a virgin.”

Humiliated, I drop my gaze from his and pull my hands from his. I wrap my arms around myself and gaze out into the parking lot. Alice has brought Sam’s food, and I watch as he eats it. At least that lightens my mood just a little.

“Did he pick you up at your house?”

I nod my head and my voice is thick. “Yes.”

He turns the key in the ignition and the big rig comes to life. “I don’t want you to stay at your apartment. Not until I check into this guy and know he’s going to leave you alone.”

“But, uh, I don’t have anywhere to go. He’s not going to come and mess with me. It was a joke to him. I’m a joke.”

I stutter over the last words, knowing they’re the truth. Martin asked me out for the simple reason of wanting to have my virginity. He brought me to The Stop because he didn’t even want to be seen out in a nice restaurant with me. He’s not coming back.

Dutton leans his head on the big steering wheel. His knuckles are white as his hands are wrapped tightly around the big leather covered wheel. “You’re not a joke.”

I laugh then. Because I’m embarrassed, because I know I am a joke, I don’t know. But laughing seems to make this all easier to handle.

“Do you trust me, Jane?”

5

Dutton

I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. I hope she trusts me. I haven’t given her any reason not to, and I would rather die than hurt her. But does she know that?

She’s stopped laughing, but she hasn’t answered me. I lift my head from the wheel and look at her. “Do you trust me?” I ask again.