“That’s not true,” my dad interrupts, hating that I’m soothing the sting to Alex’s ego. “He just doesn’t likestrangersmoseying in on his turf.” He overemphasizes the word “strangers,” ensuring Alex can’t miss that Clancy isn’t the only animal in this truck harboring some disdain. “We don’t do well with city folk around here.”
Alex braces his chin on his chest to hide his smirk when I roll my eyes at my dad's pompous attitude. I've always loved that my dad is so big and brawny, he didn't just scare boys my age into being gentleman, he also petrified their fathers, but it doesn't have the same effect on me today. Alex doesn't want to hurt me. He wants to save me. Both notions are as frightening as the other.
When I return my eyes front and center to wordlessly warn my dad to quit the larks, a scrap of paper at my feet captures my attention. It is a receipt with flight details scribbled on the back.
After gathering the receipt in my hand, I shift my eyes to my dad. “Who told you I was coming? It was Maisy, wasn’t it? Or Beatrice?”
Heat surfaces on my cheeks as I run through the short list of women over seventy in our home town. They and their belittling ways are the reason Luca could never be who he truly wanted to be. He was too concerned about maintaining an image than pursuing happiness. That is why his depression was so hard to overcome. It fed off their negativity until it combusted in the most horrific way.
“Answer me, Dad! Which one of the know-it-all old biddies yapped in your ear this time?”
My dad keeps his eyes on the road, knowing he can’t look at me and lie. “No one. It was my ears. You know how they twitch when you girls. . .” His words trail off when I yank on his steering wheel, bringing his beloved truck to the very edge of the asphalt. “Rae! Have you gone tooting mad?! You could get us killed!”
Although I love the return of the nickname he hasn’t called me since I was twenty-two, the anger in his tone holds back my joy.
“You lied!” I shout, tossing the crumbled up receipt into his chest. “Those are theexactdetails of our flight today!”
His lips wobble, but not a word escapes them.
Recalling the strict rules my momma raised me with, I shout, "Out!" I nudge my head to his door, giving him his marching orders. "You lie, you walk. That's what momma always says."
“Rae—”
“Out! What is good for one is good for all,” I quote, using his words against him. “Liars don’t prosper. They also don’t get a free ride, so out you go!”
Alex remains as quiet as a church mouse when my dad throws open his door before clambering onto the roadside. He barely squeaks a peep when I slide into my dad’s spot, slam my foot on the gas pedal, and leave my dad in a pile of dust.
He doesn’t say a word until my dad is nothing but a speck of dirt in the low-hanging sun. “Rae. . .” He articulates my name more sincerely than my dad did. “You can’t leave him. We still have over thirty miles to travel.”
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. “So? That will give him plenty of time to cool down.”
"A cold shower is a much better solution for calming down an out-of-control Myers." He aims for his tone to come out cheeky, but all I hear is sexual innuendo. He is amused, but not enough to smile. It’s a pity for him I don’t need to see his grin to know it’s there.
I lower my speed to a less dangerous pace when Alex climbs into the passenger seat. I am as mad as hell, but I don’t want him getting hurt.
The anger blistering my veins simmers when a manly scent engulfs me. Even hours after his last shower, Alex smells clean and fresh. . . and a little bit like Clancy. It doesn’t dampen his appeal in the slightest. It suits him. He should wear country more often.
“Did you just sniff me?” Alex asks, sliding into the empty space next to me.
“No!” I immediately retort, lying through my teeth.
My bones jump out of my skin when Alex shouts, “Out!” He yanks on the steering wheel as abruptly as I did a mile ago. “What is good for one is good for all.”
“But I wasn’t lying,” I lie.
Alex waits for me to pull over before arching a brow. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. I can read the shit-eating pompousness beaming out of him.
Incapable of ignoring his stern glare for a second longer, my voice wavers, “It was barely a whiff; it doesn’t count!”
“You lied; get on your bike.” He leans across me to yank on the rusty door handle. When the driver’s side door pops open, he nudges me in the shoulder. “You better get a wiggle on; you’ve only got an hour of sunlight left.”
I slam the door shut. "I am not walking. There could be coyotes and rattlesnakes, or god knows what else hiding in the bushes waiting to pounce on me!"
"And honesty?" Alex asks with a twist of his lips. "There could also be that."
I grunt like a wild animal, unappreciative of his underhanded swipe at my integrity. “Who are you to preach?! You’ve done nothing but lie to me since the day we met!”
He says nothing—of course! A liar doesn’t defend himself with lies. He keeps quiet.
