The Truck Driver

From Milwaukee, WI to Atlanta, GA

As they walked toward the entrance of Abuelo's, Kayla leaned into Tank's side, soaking up the warmth of his body. His arm rested heavy around her shoulders, his touch protective, claiming. She liked the idea of being his—more than she wanted to admit.

Tank opened the door for her, letting her step inside first before following close behind. The restaurant was lively, filled with the smell of seasoned meats, warm tortillas, and fresh salsa. A hostess greeted them with a bright smile.

"Table for two?"

"Yeah," Tank nodded, his voice deep and sure.

Kayla peeked up at him, her stomach flipping at the way he naturally took the lead. He always did, and she was realizing she liked it.

They were led to a booth, and as soon as they sat, Tank stretched his long legs out, getting comfortable. Kayla glanced over the menu, but before she could decide on anything, Tank smirked.

"You know you mine, right?" His voice was low, his eyes locked on her.

Kayla's heart stuttered. She wasn't expecting him to bring it up again so soon.

She hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah... I know."

Tank's smirk deepened. "Good."

That was it. No big speech, no long-winded explanation. Just good. Like he'd already made up his mind, like there was no room for argument.

Kayla's fingers traced the rim of her menu as warmth spread through her chest.

She didn't fight it.

She didn't want to.

Kayla lowered her eyes to the menu, pretending to focus, but her mind was still wrapped around Tank's words. You know you mine, right? The certainty in his voice sent a rush of heat through her body, but instead of letting it consume her, she played it cool.

A waitress appeared at their table, her eyes lingering on Tank a little too long for Kayla's liking.

"What can I get y'all to drink?" the waitress asked, offering Tank a sweet smile.

Kayla didn't miss the way her body language changed, shoulders back, chest out, her voice dipping just slightly as she spoke.

Tank, unfazed, glanced at Kayla. "Whatchu want, lil bit?"

Kayla smirked at the nickname but still side-eyed the waitress as she answered, "Strawberry lemonade."

Tank turned back to the waitress. "Make that two."

The waitress scribbled the order down before flashing Tank another lingering look. "I'll be right back."

Kayla watched her leave, then cut her eyes at Tank. "You see that?"

Tank smirked, leaning back against the booth with his arm draped along the backrest. "See what?"

Kayla rolled her eyes. "She was damn near drooling over you."

Tank chuckled, his light brown eyes twinkling. "That so?"

"You know it," Kayla muttered, folding her arms.

Tank reached over, tugging her chin up so she had to look at him. "Ain't worried 'bout nobody but you."

That's all it took to melt Kayla's attitude. She pressed her lips together, trying to fight her smile, but Tank saw right through her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she mumbled, looking back at the menu.

Tank just chuckled, shaking his head. He liked this side of her—feisty, but soft when it came to him.