“Then he’ll call you.”
“What if there’s a fire?”
“He’ll call 911.”
“What if—?”
“Baby, I need you to relax, okay?”
I slumped in my seat, but after a minute or two, held my hand out. “Can I have my phone back?”
“Why?”
I motioned to the radio. “I want to look up this band.”
“Jefferson Airplane.”
“I want to look up the song.”
“‘Somebody to Love.’”
“Calvin, give me my phone!”
He held it out, saying, “If you text Max, I’ll find out, and you’ll be in trouble. Understand?”
I grumbled a response, took the phone, and shoved it in my pocket. I studied Calvin from behind my shades as he put his hand back on the wheel. I so rarely saw him in jeans and a T-shirt that each time it was a vivid reminder of his Superman physique. Not that I didn’t see it plenty in the bedroom, but there was something so satisfying in the way his thighs filled out a pair of Levi’s, or how the sleeves of his shirt always bulged from his biceps. And the constellations of freckles smattering his bare arms? That was icing on the cake.
Sunglasses met sunglasses, and Calvin asked, “What?”
I shrugged. “Enjoying the view.”
Calvin looked out the windshield, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The mountains are nice.”
“There’re mountains?” I turned my head. “Oh. Would you look at that.”
It wasn’t much longer before Calvin made a turn for what a sign indicated to be the direction of Durango. Mom-and-pop shops began cropping up along the sides of the road, just far enough outside the heart of the city that rent was undoubtedly cheaper, but the trade-off being tourists were very unlikely to poke their heads in. Locals’ shopping only. We passed no fewer than a dozen different lodgings—questionable motels, empty parking lots glowing in the late-afternoon desert sun, low-star chain hotels, family-owned B&Bs—but Calvin didn’t stop driving.
“Are we… going to the Main Avenue Historic District?” I finally asked.
“I knew you’d figure it out.”
I sat up at attention. “Are we really?”
“You know about it?”
“It cuts through downtown Durango. There’s something like eighty buildings of historic significance that’re included. It’s near the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad too.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. It’s a passenger line for sightseeing now, but it was originally both passenger and freight, moving ore from the surrounding mines in the 18—you knew this.”
“I didn’t,” Calvin said with a chuckle.
“Yes, you did. You have tells.”
“I do?”
“When you rub your chin like that.”
