“Who’s March? Your new boyfriend?”
“No, he’s the guy who’s going to keep us alive.So you better shut up about him.”
“Just inquiring, love.”
“Don’t call me love.”
I roll my eyes. “You going to be so touchy the whole damn time?”
“Yes.”
Well, at least she’s honest.
“Fine.” It is what it is. We don’t need to be best friends; we just need to do a job and then go our separate ways. I’ll just need to restrain myself from trying to fuck her in the process. What can I say? She’s a hard woman to get over. “Ouch.” Aisling pokes me in the eye. “What was that for, ya little bugger?”
She laughs hysterically. “Fucker,”
My jaw drops, and Fallon laughs. “Don’t say that.” I cover her mouth.
“She definitely knows who her daddy is,” Fallon snickers.
“Be quiet up there, or I'll cover your mouth, too.”
Fallon cocks an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. She might not hate that idea. I don't mind it myself. Especially if it were in the same context as two years ago. Hot, sweaty, and naked.
I try to keep Aisling occupied as much as possible as Fallon drives. But she is a busy little thing who likes to climb, jump, and get into just about everything. She barely sits still. At one point, she got a hold of Fallon’s hair. That went over spectacularly.
The car ride was not pleasant, but Fallon wasn’t stopping until we reached the rest stop this March fella directed us to.
By the time we get there, it’s early afternoon, Aisling is hungry, her diaper is wet, and she is fussy as shit. I think we are all ready to get the fuck out of the car.
“Go inside and get a table.” Fallon opens the glove compartment and pulls out a wad of twenty-dollar bills.
I look at the little diner attached to the gas station. It isn’t much, but it’ll do. “I would love to, but I have a feeling no shoes, no shirt, no service even applies in there,” I allude to my bare feet.
“Fuck,” Fallon bristles. “Fine, stay here.”
She climbs out of the car, and I watch her make her way over to a few truckers congregating outside their sleds. She speaks quickly and animatedly, and then flashes some cash. The driver with a yellow cap nods, then leaves, then returns holding a pair of work boots.
“I’ll be damned.”
Fallon strides back to the car with the three truck drivers checking out her ass. Is it wrong that I want to pop each one of their beady eyes out with a rusty fishhook? She opens the back door and drops the boots in my lap. “Problem solved.”
I pause. “Did you just do a drug deal for a pair of Doc Martens?”
Fallon smiles brashly.
“Hold her.” I hand Aisling off to Fallon so I can try on my new kicks, and her smile evaporates. We’re gonna need to foster her maternal side if this partnership is going to work.
I slide the shoes on as Fallon holds Aisling like she’s a ticking time bomb.
“She isn’t going to explode.” I stand and resituate the two of them, forcing Fallon to cradle Aisling’s bottom in the crook of her elbow. As soon as Aisling is close enough, she wraps her arms around Fallon's neck. It’s the sweetest picture, even though the look on Fallon’s face says otherwise.
“You’ll get used to it.” I put Fallon out of her misery and take Aisling from her.
“I doubt it. Go get a table. I need to call March.” She’s all work and no play.
I’m all for that. My stomach is growling like a predatory animal in the night.
