“Nah. It’s a truck stop not too far away. Once we wrap up out here, we’ll go to the truck stop. Damn. I thought we were at a point in our relationship where you trusted me. If the plan was to sleep out here, you don’t think that I would protect you?” I asked, bringing the truck to a complete stop.
My question made Amina smile.
“I do trust you. I just don’t think I would ever agree to sleeping out here in the woods,” she stated.
I took my seatbelt off and slouched a little bit in the chair. I raised both hands, placing them behind my head, keeping my eyes on her.
“If I told you to do it, you would,” I cockily said.
When her ass didn’t say anything in response to that, I knew that I was right. I had her doing everything else that she probably thought she would never be doing, so what was the sense of drawing the line when it came to sleeping out here in the woods?
I eventually stepped out of the truck, so that I could stretch my arms and legs. I walked over to the area that would belong to us for the next few hours. We were surrounded by nothing but oak and cedar trees. I really had us out here in the fuckin woods. I loved being outdoors though. Prior to Amina being on the truck with me, she wasn’t an outdoor person, but now, she didn’t too much care if she had to be outside. I just think that she was a little freaked out about the setting, thinking that she was going to run into some bears and snakes.
Right next to the parking pad, where I parked the truck was a wooden table, and that’s what I was going to use to set up everything to cook, and for us to eat. Since there were already tables out here, I wouldn’t have to pull out the ones that I had from the back.
To the left, there was a black metal ring fire that was just a few feet away. It was surrounded by stones, and old ash. If I looked a little further down, you could see the trail that led you out to where the lake was. Nothing but good vibes going on out here. I couldn’t wait to bring the speaker out, play some good music, take a couple of shots, and just create another memory with my lady.
Moments into me standing out here, taking in these views, Amina came out from the truck. She walked over to me, and instead of standing in front of me, she opted on standing behind me. I felt her face rest on my back. Her arms wrapped around me, going inside my shirt, and her nails raked up, and down my abs. She did that, along with lifting her head, so that she could place kisses on my back through the shirt that I was wearing. Physical touch was Amina’s love language just as much as it was mine. It was one of those things where we did it so much, that most times, we didn’t even realize what we were doing.
“It’s still a little eerie, but it’s nice out here,” she announced after a few moments went by.
“I told you that it’s nothing for you to be scared of. Come on. Let me start bringing everything out, so I can get started on dinner. I want to feed you,” I said, reaching my hand back, so that I could pull her, and have her stand in front of me.
She came to the front, wrapped her arms around me, and we kissed for a few seconds.
I pulled away, so that I could hop back on the truck. I went in the fridge, pulling out the steak that was in there, the asparagus,shrimp, and the potatoes. I grabbed everything that I could, taking it out of the truck, and bringing it over to the table.
I came back for all the seasonings, the griddle, and everything else that I was going to need to set up my little cooking station. As I stood inside the truck, I removed the work shirt that I’ve been wearing all day, leaving me shirtless. I placed the apron around me, that I would often wear whenever I cooked. Before going outside to start anything, I washed my hands at the sink.
I made it back outside, going over to the table, where Amina was sitting.
“I’ll go get the wine, and everything else out of the truck,” she let me know.
I told her that that was cool, and then she disappeared. She was only gone for about a minute or two. She came back holding a bottle of red wine, along with two wine glasses. She had me trying all kinds of wine, and the crazy thing is, most of the wines that she would put me on to, they would actually be pretty good. Before she put me on, I would only dabble in Moscato.
“You give me country boy vibes. Like, even though you’re a Florida boy, I feel like you would do well living in the country. The way you parked this truck in the woods and immediately found a way to start setting up to cook, lets me know that,” Amina said, as she handed the bottle of wine to me, so that I could open it for her.
The corkscrew was setting on the table, since I knew she was going to bring a bottle out, so I made sure I had a corkscrew to open it.
Her comment made me laugh because it wasn’t the first time that someone had said this to me.
“I think it just comes with living on the road. When you’ve been doing this for so long, you learn how to adapt. I do whatever I can to make it feel like home. I told you before that Igrew up on home cooked meals. My pops, and my mom stayed in the kitchen. We barely ate out at restaurants, or fast-food spots because both my parents knew how to throw down. My taste buds are used to home cooked meals, so shit, wherever I can find a place to park the truck, pull the griddle out, and cook a home cooked meal, I’m going to do that,” I let her know, passing the bottle of wine back to her, since I was able to open it.
Amina poured a glass for herself and then poured one for me as well. We brought the glasses together, so that we could cheers. After that, I started getting everything out of the packaging. I had the music playing too. My phone was connected to the speakers Bluetooth, and I went for an R&B album that I had on Apple music.
“I had a griddle in my dorm back in college. I always been a hustler. I used to make dinner plates in my dorm a few times out of the week. Charge everybody $10 a plate,” I let Amina know, after I finished seasoning the steak.
The griddle was on, with the garlic butter slowly melting. I was just waiting for it to get a little hotter, so that I could put the steaks on.
Amina laughed at what I said, while shaking her head.
“What were you cooking?” she wanted to know.
“Shit, everything. Spaghetti, burgers and fries, shrimp pasta, all that. I was making all kind of money doing that. My roommate would help me pack the orders up, so he always ate free. My room used to be jumping. Everybody was knocking on my door trying to get a plate,” I shared with her.
As I was telling her these things, I said it with a smile on my face because it quickly started bringing back old memories.
“Gemini, that’s crazy. I admire the hustle though,” she told me.
