Highway Nights

By KC Kendricks

Garrett Webb has a five-point plan for starting his own business. To keep it on track, he takes a second job and settles into the evening delivery run between Owensville and Mt. Franklin. The solitude of being on the road clears his head and enables him to chart a better future for himself. When a foggy night sends him to the safety of The Downshift Diner and its owner, Oliver Sanderson, that future takes an unforeseen turn.

Oliver Sanderson enjoys a quiet life along the lonely stretch of highway that's home to his diner. The road brings all manner of interesting souls to his door. When Garrett Webb steps out of the fog seeking shelter, his openness and honesty draws Oliver's interest. He's ready to take the next step, but needs to be cautious. Trouble is coming to the diner, and Oliver wants Garrett clear of it.  

Good intentions can't hold out against their budding attraction. Garrett makes the diner a regular stop during his nightly run, and the men get better acquainted. But Garrett's past isn't done with him. In a single heart-stopping moment, Garrett is forced to a decision that risks Oliver's life – one that could forever end their highway nights.

* * *

Oliver settled in the booth and stared across the table. "You gonna tell me why you're really here?"

"I told you. Food and conversation."

The young man didn't bat an eye. Oliver had a good sense about men, and it said Garrett was interested in a lot more than talk. He saw no point in calling the fellow on it, not yet. It could be Garrett didn't consciously realize what he wanted. Life handed you moments like that, and Oliver had had his fair share of them. But if the lad wanted talk, he'd be glad to get the ball rolling.

"All right, then. I'll be nosey and start our chat. So why are you working two jobs? A young fellow like you should be out clubbing every night."

"My five-point plan suffered a setback. I'm working to recoup some losses."

"Boyfriend?"

Garrett sighed. "Not any longer."

And, no doubt, the ex-boyfriend was reason the five-point plan had been derailed. It usually was. Oliver could say he'd been there and done that, too, but he'd wait to see if Garrett asked first. He didn't, so Oliver tried another topic.

"Nice jeans."

"Thanks. I got a great deal on them. Twenty bucks at a yard sale."

Yard sale? No wonder Garrett dressed like a prince. Oliver could, too, if he had the patience to treasure hunt, because that's what a yard sale really was.

"Good looking, hard working and frugal. You don't find that combination every day."

Garrett sipped his cola, his blue gaze fastened on Oliver's. "That's me. Do you like the back pockets of my jeans?"

"Ah, a flaw. Vanity." Oliver leaned back, unable to refrain from grinning at Garrett. "I noticed. I'll say it since your ego appears to need it." He leaned forward and kept his voice down. "Nice butt."

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Deer Enterprises/White Deer Books
• Release date: Apr 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533765611

KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks calls herself an accidental writer. After completing her first novel writing as Rayne Forrest, she was urged to submit it to a publisher, and everything snowballed from there. Today, the author has had over seventy books published. The author does not use AI in the creation of her books or the book covers.  In May of 2022, she "retired" from her day job, moving from being an Administrative Assistant to an Administrative Consultant. She says it sounds grand, but the job is basically answering emails to her protégé as she becomes acquainted with all aspects of the job.  A native of scenic western Maryland, the author enjoys most activities that don't include snow. In warm weather she might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies in her garden for the deer to munch on at night, playing in the creek, or lazing on the patio with her ebook reader or laptop. She recently began to research her family history and can't drive past a cemetery without stopping to search for family sites. Her mission is to photograph old tombstones before the elements erode the stones and the names are lost to time. For more about KC Kendricks and Rayne Forrest's writing life, please visit the Between the Keys blog at http:kckendricks.blogspot.com . If you'd like to know more about the author's country lifestyle and her daily activities full of simple country pleasures (and a lot of work), please visit the Holly Tree Manor blog at http://hollytreemanor.blogspot.com . And for dog lovers, there is Deuce's Day – life seen through the eyes of KC's black Lab, Deuce (http://deucesday.blogspot.com) KC finds YouTube a fascinating place and has recently uploaded a few short videos of life in the country. She hopes to do more in the future. Her channel is called The Hideaway Between the Keys. https://www.youtube.com/KCKendricks KC can be reached through her blog, Between the Keys. All comments are strictly moderated by the author and personal messages are treated as such. Follow the author on X (formerly Twitter) for up-to-date announcements at Twitter.com/KCKendricks.

Book preview

About Highway Nights

Garrett Webb has a five-point plan for starting his own business. To keep it on track, he takes a second job and settles into the evening delivery run between Owensville and Mt. Franklin. The solitude of being on the road clears his head and enables him to chart a better future for himself. When a foggy night sends him to the safety of The Downshift Diner and its owner, Oliver Sanderson, that future takes an unforeseen turn.

Oliver Sanderson enjoys a quiet life along the lonely stretch of highway that’s home to his diner. The road brings all manner of interesting souls to his door. When Garrett Webb steps out of the fog seeking shelter, his openness and honesty draws Oliver’s interest. He’s ready to take the next step but needs to be cautious. Trouble is coming to the diner, and Oliver wants Garrett clear of it. 

Good intentions can’t hold out against their budding attraction. Garrett makes the diner a regular stop during his nightly run, and the men get better acquainted. But Garrett’s past isn’t done with him. In a single heart-stopping moment, Garrett is forced to a decision that risks Oliver’s life – one that could forever end their highway nights.

What they said about Highway Nights

...An honest portrayal of hard-working men making their way in life, just like men we know in our own lives. When love catches them unaware, their reaction to it is the crux of the story...An unforeseen occurrence adds to the drama and kicks it up a notch. Highway Nights is a nicely paced story with a satisfying ending. – Reviewed by The Romance Studio (4 Hearts)

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Praise for the writing of KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks never disappoints!"—Fallen Angel Reviews

..beautifully moving in all the right places...KC Kendricks gives us a well-crafted tale- The Romance Studio

Good to the last word....- Sensual Reads

...Seriously entertaining and totally engaging...- Joyfully Reviewed

...solidly written contemporary romance...-Jessewave

CHAPTER 1

Garrett Webb eased off the gas pedal and turned on the four-way flashers as the faint red trail of taillights he followed vanished into the soupy fog ahead. Visibility was down to mere feet, making it a miserable night to be on the road, but he had little choice. The run to Mount Franklin two or three nights a week had finally lifted his finances back into the black. Garrett planned to stick with it for at least another two years and recoup all his losses. Well, all but the loss of his pride. He did better without that.

The ultimate reason behind his fall—pride—had held him prisoner until it was too late and he’d verged on losing everything truly important, namely his self-respect.

Pride wouldn’t cost him his life tonight. He’d make damn sure of that. It was time to find a safe place to pull off the road, lock the doors, and take what uncomfortable rest he could manage. Come morning, the fog should lift and he could drive on. Unless...

Garrett squinted at the eerie glow forming in the thick mist in front of him. Yes, there it was—The Downshift Diner. Shrouded in fog, he’d lost track of how far he’d actually driven. Venturing farther when he had a safe place to pull completely off the highway would be foolish.

He held his breath no oncoming car would broadside the truck and made the left turn into the vacant parking lot. It was a testament to his foolishness no other trucks were on the road tonight. He’d get some coffee and ask the manager on duty if he could wait out the night on the premises. Garrett sighed in relief as the tension eased out of his shoulders. He called the dispatcher for permission to wait out the fog, filled out the manifest, secured the truck and entered the diner to find its single occupant at the far end of the counter, head bent. The man looked up. Even at a distance, his intense sky blue eyes were curious but tinged with caution.

Garrett tripped over the floor mat, caught himself, and glared at his feet before he turned back to the man perched on the bar stool. He couldn’t help but notice the man’s glossy brunette hair and sexy dark stubble. The clinging fabric of his long-sleeved knit shirt did little to hide the lines and planes of corded muscles. Large, strong-looking hands held a paperback novel. This fellow had to be the toast of the town somewhere. Garrett wiped his feet and greeted him.

’Ev’ning. Is it too late to get a burger?

The man shook his head as he laid his book aside. I even have fresh hot coffee. Just put it on for myself. I didn’t expect any business tonight. He stood and stretched.

Garrett judged his powerfully built frame to be about six-foot-two. His gaze swept Garrett from head to toe, and back up again, without giving away any inkling of what he thought. He pointed to the seat he’d vacated.

Have a seat down here, unless you mind paying for your burger with conversation.

You don’t have to do that, mister. The conversation is my pleasure.

And your burger is mine, so don’t argue with me. He grinned, displaying even white teeth. Little lines crinkled at the corner of each eye. I’m Oliver.

Garrett. He settled his butt on the pre-warmed barstool and politely refused the offer of creamer as Oliver set a steaming mug in front of him. Oliver turned the heat up on the grill.

I don’t think I’ve seen you before.

Garrett stirred a little sugar into his coffee, then blew on it before taking a cautious sip. It lived up to Oliver’s description—it was hot. And good. He set the mug down to allow it to cool.

I usually drive by a few times a week on the way to Mount Franklin, then back to Owensville.

One or two burgers?

Just one, thanks. The fog is brutal, and I decided it was safer to sleep in the truck and call my boss in the morning than end up as road kill.

Oliver snorted. You got that shit right. I’ve seen a lot of stupidity on this stretch of road.

Garrett bet the man had. A wave of longing swept him as his gaze drifted down Oliver’s backside. He possessed a mature man’s frame, filled out to a controlled strength with no lingering hint of boyishness. The man had a nice ass, and the way his jeans hugged his thighs sent a shiver down Garrett’s spine, one that settled in his balls. How long had it been since a pair of muscular thighs had gripped his sides? Too long, and it would be longer still.

Even if Oliver didn’t vibe straight, Garrett wasn’t about to get all stupid, not like he had with Shaun. He sighed audibly and sipped his coffee. Oliver glanced over his shoulder.

That was a deep sigh? You tired?

Oh, yeah. I’ll just eat and go curl up in the truck if you think the owner won’t mind me parking here until daybreak.

I own the place, so no worries, and you can sleep inside where it’s warm and dry. Take the corner booth.

That’s pretty generous. Are you sure?

Oliver stared out the plate glass window for a moment, then met Garrett’s gaze. I’m just passing on a kindness, but if you’d rather sleep cold, you have at it.

Garrett hesitated, but spending the night in relative comfort held a lot more appeal than spending it cramped and damp. He didn’t want to inconvenience Oliver, but perhaps he should be gracious and accept—and keep his mouth shut so he didn’t insult the man.

The corner booth sounds great. Thanks, Oliver. I accept with gratitude.

Oliver flipped the burger and turned back to him. Good. Now, what do you want on this? Don’t say onions.

But I like onions.

I’m out. Sorry.

Well, then. Hold the onions, please.

Oliver flashed him a grin and grabbed a plate. So what outfit are you driving for?

Garrett took a swallow of coffee, absorbing the heat that spread from his belly outward. Damn, he was glad to be off the road for the night.

Parker Transportation. We get the postal service parcel post overflow a few times a week. I never know what night I’m driving until they contact me.

Oliver slid the burger onto a bun. His curious blue eyes flicked up. Doesn’t sound like steady work.

Garrett pulled a napkin from the holder and set his cup to the side. I have a regular day job. This is just for extra cash.

Is your day boss the understanding sort? You might be late showing up for work in the morning. Oliver placed a plate in front of Garrett, then offered him the condiment tray.

Yeah, he is. He’ll be glad I exercised my better judgment and got off the road. Garrett squeezed a generous amount of ketchup on the hamburger and slapped the roll in place.

Good. Oliver nodded and walked away, disappearing around the corner at the end of the bar.

Garrett ate his burger in silence. Finished, he flipped over the book to see the title. Maybe someday he’d have time to read again. Oliver was still in the back, so he slipped around the end of the counter and warmed his coffee.

Careful. You could end up with three jobs if you can pour without dribbling.

Garrett rolled his eyes. I never dribble.

Oliver snorted, an amused sound, and pointed at the back booth. It’s not much, but here’s a pillow off my sofa and a blanket. I’ll cut the lights in the corner. Maybe you can get a little shut-eye.

Garrett would have opted for more conversation, but something in his host’s demeanor said he didn’t want to talk. He’d be a poor guest if he pushed the man. He picked up his cup.

Once again, my thanks.

Oliver nodded, retrieved his book, and walked to the other end of the long room while Garrett eased into the booth and carefully slid the table a few inches to make more room. He hesitated a moment, then kicked off his worn cross-trainers before he curled up on the narrow bench. The overhead lights dimmed, darkening the booth. He shook the small blanket out over his feet and draped his jacket over his shoulders.

How many times had he driven past the diner in the last two years? Three hundred? More? It didn’t matter. He’d stop in at least once a week now for a cup of coffee and twenty minutes worth of conversation. And if he didn’t get conversation, that was okay, too. At least it would be a few precious moments in the company of another man who wouldn’t hit on him.

Garrett closed