Chapter 2
Ali
Ali followed Big Timber toward his truck on unsteady legs, her body still buzzing from their confrontation in the diner.Her magic was doing things she'd never experienced before—humming, sparking, reaching toward him like it had developed its own independent will.
This was such a spectacularly bad idea.
"Nice truck," she said, because apparently her mouth had decided to make small talk while her brain was still trying to process the fact that she'd just been claimed by a cryptid male who smelled like her personal kryptonite.
"Custom job," Big Timber said, running his hand along the chrome detailing that spelled out his handle in elegant script.The gesture was almost possessive, and Ali wondered if he touched everything he considered his with that same casual ownership.
That steamy thought was not helping her current situation at all.
"Built it myself," he continued, moving to check something under the hood."Took three years to get it right."
Ali circled the massive Peterbilt, snapping photos while trying to distract herself from the way his flannel shirt stretched across his shoulders.Through her magical lens, she could see golden threads extending from his aura into the truck itself, as if his connection to the vehicle went deeper than mere ownership.
"You're bonded to it," she said."Magically, I mean."
"Most cryptids bond with their territory."He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag."This truck is mine."
The way he said 'mine' made her think of other things he might consider his property.Like her, apparently, if the supernatural trucking community was to be believed.
"Mobile territory," she said, climbing up the running boards to peer into the cab."Smart.Can I see inside?"
He nodded toward the passenger door."Climb up."
The moment Ali stepped into the cab, his scent hit her like a wall of pine-scented temptation.The space was enormous even by truck standards, custom-built for someone his size but somehow still managing to feel cozy rather than cavernous.Behind the driver's area, she could see a curtained sleeper berth that looked less like a standard trucker setup and more like a mobile bedroom.
A mobile bedroom where Big Timber—Tim—probably slept alone every night.
Don't think about his bedroom, Ali.That way lies madness and poor life choices.
"This is incredible," she said, running her hands over the hand-stitched leather upholstery."You really did build it yourself?"
"Had to."He climbed into the driver's seat, which groaned under his weight."Nothing off the lot was going to work for someone my size."
Ali settled into the passenger seat and was surprised to find it fit her perfectly despite being built to accommodate his massive frame."What were you driving before this?"
"Borrowed rigs.Rental trucks.Whatever I could find that wouldn't collapse under me."He started the engine."Lot of sleepless nights in truck stop parking lots."
