Page 4 of The Runaway and the Rugged (Dusty Meadows #1)

Needing to act fast before my facade was exposed, I let out a forced chuckle.

One that was meant to convince Clarke that I was more than okay with everything.

But Clarke Burns, my best friend, was no fool.

She knew me about as well as I knew myself, and from the way her nostrils flared in response, it was clear that my reaction wasn’t what she had hoped for.

She wanted any sort of truth from me, a woman who was paralyzed by the fear of abandoning all that she’s ever known.

But I wasn’t like her. I didn’t have the courage to voice my thoughts or confront my own fears.

Instead I remained trapped in a cycle of contemplation, endlessly rehearsing my doubts and forever wondering what if .

“You need to quit worrying so much,” I teased, hoping to alleviate the tension surrounding us. “Everything will be fine. I will be fine.”

I mustered my most convincing smile as I went in and palmed her shoulder in a light squeeze. Although her expression told me she wanted to delve further into the topic, we were interrupted by the awful squeaking sound of Beau’s passenger window being rolled down.

“Ya’ll okay out there?”

Removing the hand from Clarke’s shoulder, I turned myself around until I was facing the passenger side of the truck.

“Yes, we're fine, sorry.” I offered him a friendly, reassuring smile. From behind me, I heard Clarke mumble under her breath before coming up beside me where she leaned over the opened car window.

As both our eyes explored the interior of his truck, it was as if we reached the same revelation in unison: there were no back seats. Only a small middle seat flanked by the passenger side.

Beau must have sensed that something was amiss, the look on our faces was likely a dead giveaway.

“Uh, where are the rest of the seats?” Clarke questioned, her eyebrows drawn inward as she leaned the top half of her body farther into the truck while searching for the nonexistent back seats.

Beau let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“No back seats in a single cab, sugar.” Clarke’s stare snapped over to his and from the corner of my eye I caught the beginnings of a scowl form.

“I know it probably ain’t what you’re used to, but I promise you this ol’ girl runs like she did in her prime. ”

He slapped his palm onto the dashboard before gently caressing it like you would a family dog.

“You have no idea what I’m used to, but that's not the issue here. The issue is there’s barely any room for Millie and me,” she deadpanned. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my build isn’t exactly made to sit in the middle of a single cab truck.”

My mouth dropped.

Clarke was the furthest thing from being overweight. In fact, she had the best curves of any woman I’ve ever met, and for her to even question whether she could fit in one of the seats was completely preposterous.

“I don’t know wh…” Beau started to speak, and I could already sense that his efforts at making her feel better would only deepen her frustration. So, I quickly intervened before she walked her ass back onto the plane and left me here in Texas.

“Beau, I know I barely know you and what I’m about to say will come off as rude, but please stop talking. The last thing she wants to hear right now is you telling her she’s wrong.”

More specifically, she doesn’t want to hear it coming from a man.

As I turned my attention back to Clarke, I noticed a pleased grin spread across her face. And just as I was about to speak, she swiftly cut me off with a swing of her hand.

“Oh, I don’t need to hear anything more.

It was way more than enough to see my nonconfrontational best friend finally being assertive.

Even if I’d much rather see it aimed at her fiancé.

” Smiling, she leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to my cheek.

“Plus, I never said I didn’t like my curves.

I just don’t want to be all pressed up against Mr. Wannabe Southern Gentleman over there. ”

A low, rumble of a laugh filled the truck.

“Ain’t nothin’ wannabe about me, sugar,” Beau added with a playful wink as the grin on his face widened.

Jesus. I was definitely stuck in the middle seat now because Clarke might actually hurt this man.

Her face was void of any emotion, but I knew deep down she was simmering.

Plotting.

“I’ll take the middle seat,” I announced, hoping that would settle some of the tension lingering in the air. However, Beau seemed completely unperturbed and unaffected. Like he was either blissfully unaware or refused to acknowledge it.

Moments later, I reached for the door but Beau’s sudden reflexes beat me to it as he leaned across the seats in the truck and swung the door open.

“Whoa there, I could have opened it.” I laughed, his body stretched out and contorted over the seats.

“Nah, that’s my job. When a lady is with me, I always open the door.”

He lifted himself up and settled back into the driver's seat. Once the middle spot was open, I carefully climbed into the truck with one hand on the dashboard to steady myself and the other holding the bottom of my dress down. Clarke followed in behind me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled to Beau, a slight blush creeping on my face as my thigh brushed against his.

Instead of him making some flirty comment, he offered a friendly smile in return.

Once both Clarke and I were settled in, Beau cranked the engine of his truck, sending a deep rumble beneath our feet.

“Atta girl,” Beau commended as he slapped his palm onto the dashboard.

The man had a strange fixation on praising his truck. I could only imagine the things he’d say to a woman.

“I swear to God if we get stranded on the side of the road…” Clarke grumbled under her breath, irritation lining her words as she reluctantly buckled herself in. With her arms now tightly wound across her chest and an irritable cloud hanging over her head, I lightly nudged her with my shoulder.

“Be nice,” I whispered, my eyes pleading with her to not create a disturbance in this already unusual day we were having. My stomach was in knots with apprehension and the last thing I needed was to mediate whatever sibling-like feud they had going on.

I could barely handle my current dilemma, let alone theirs.

“I am nice,” she grumbled, and moments later Beau informed us with a low laugh that he heard us.

Half expecting Clarke to respond with a clever retort, she surprised me by dropping her head against the passenger window with an exasperated huff. One that was filled with unspoken frustration and silent curses.

At least she was trying.

It didn’t take long before Beau had us out on some country back road.

“How long do you suppose this drive will be?” I questioned, desperate to eliminate the awkward silence lingering in the air.

If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was tense silence.

“About an hour,” he responded, then shifting his gaze over to me, I caught a glimpse of playful mischief in his eyes. “So, if you want to practice your assertiveness, I’m a great person to test your skills on, Ms. Quinn.”

Fuck, it was going to be a long hour.