Page 23 of Hauling Ashe

“I just know,” Jane says, interrupting my stream of unspoken questions.

Ideally, taking the trip I’m on would be more exciting if I could share the experience. If I had that husband to match his wife with our two children on a road trip to see the country. But I don’t have that husband. And I don’t have two children interested in sharing this adventure with me.

Why were all the men in my life so selfish?

Instantly, I regret the thought concerning my boys. They are children. Teenagers. Neither matters. They have their own lives to live as they should, and I have mine. That was the point of this trip. I was taking me back.

Exhaustion hits in a heavy wave. “I’m going to take a bath and head to bed.” I should probably eat something healthy like a salad to clear my belly, but the idea of getting back in the car and searching for a restaurant doesn’t sound appealing.

“You okay?” The apprehension in Jane’s voice reminds me she’s the worrier of my sisters. She’s the second mother filled with concern for her chicks.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her. I always am. Somehow.

+ + +

To my surprise, I find Tucker outside my motel room bright and early. He’s wearing aviator glasses and leaning against my car. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he looks like a rock star and it’s not the first time my breath catches at his appearance. The hitch also comes with the shocking relief he’s here. I went to bed thinking he’d honestly disappeared, and I wouldn’t see him again. I’d slept horribly.

“Good morning,” he says, tipping the sunglasses to the top of his head as he stands straighter. A leather string sticks out near the collar of his shirt, and I wonder what he wears around his neck, hidden behind the cotton tee. He holds a to-go cup in each hand. “Mochaccino?”

Softly, I laugh. “Where did you find one of those around here?” He tips his head and I notice a coffee shop across the busy street.

“I had to tell them how to make it, so I have no idea if it will be any good.” He offers the cup and I take it.

“How did you know I drank mochaccino?” I typically don’t, but he wouldn’t know that either. He wrinkles his nose in that way he does.

“You smelled like mocha when we met.”

I laugh again. Hardly an official meeting. I’m doubly surprised he recognized the scent.

“Shall we?” He tips his head toward the car at his side.

“You’re the navigator today,” I state, reminding him he can pick our stops in Missouri but there must be stops.

“I don’t know anything about this highway or your plans.”

“No plans. That’s the joy in this trip. As far as the highway, it’s stop when you see something of interest.” Tucker stares at me, and slowly, the corner of his mouth curls as it does, one side hiking slightly higher than the other. Those silver eyes narrow on me.

“I’ll let you know when to stop then,” he says. Did his voice just drop? The tenor sounds deeper than normal, and I dismiss the gravelly timbre sending shivers up the inside of my thighs and landing on a spot that has no business throbbing.

Tucker pops the driver’s side door handle and holds the door open for me. He settles our bags in the trunk, and I wait for him to round the car, expecting him to climb in the back as he did yesterday. When he opens the front passenger door and slips in beside me, I stare at him.

“It’s Saturday,” he says, looking back at me.

It certainly is and Saturday looks so good on him. My eyes roam his attire once more and my mouth waters, but it’s not in anticipation of the chocolaty drink in my cup. That thigh-hugging denim. The tight fit of his tee. Even the bead and leather strip around his wrist. He puts sexy in a Saturday.

Pulling my gaze from him, I start the ignition and we re-route for the iconic highway. I’d double back for the famous Gateway Arch, but I’ve been to St. Louis two other times for hockey tournaments for Wyatt, and both times the gate to the west was closed. While a third time might be the charm, I don’t want to tempt fate. Besides, the hour is early, and I doubt the historic place is open. There’s also a museum of transportation in the city, but this is a road trip and I’m letting the road be my education.

11

MISSOURI – DAY 2

Playlist: “The Thrill Is Gone” – B.B. King

[Tucker]

“You seemed surprised to see me this morning,” I eventually say as we barrel down I-44, which covers portions of the original route.

We’ve been quiet as we sip our drinks and adjust to sitting next to one another. Music fills the car once again and the smokey blues matches our pace. Although it’s Saturday and I typically put in a couple hours of work even on the weekends, today I let business slide. Besides, my early morning wake-up call from Jude put me in a funk.