Page 56 of Hauling Ashe

When we return to the car, Tucker wears another leather braided band on his wrist with rough turquoise stones interwoven, and I’d like to say we match, but it’s just too cheesy to consider.

+ + +

Crossing into Arizona, my breath is taken away immediately. The setting is gorgeous and bright, rich in red color just as I imagined it might be. We’ll follow I-40, as my research into the trip shows most of Route 66 in Arizona is covered by the modern expressway. The landscape is beautiful, and it’s the only sight I want to see right now.

Since Tucker has given up arriving in California tomorrow, he suggests a visit to the Petrified Forest National Park. We both agree we could use a walk to stretch our legs.

“But first, I need to get out of these jeans.”

If I thought that was code for getting naked in the backseat, I’m wrong. He needs some shorts. However, Tucker has been more than affectionate today. He’s held my hand or touched my thigh as he’s driven. He’s kissed me quick but often when we’ve stopped for breakfast, gas, and our mini-shopping trip. With his mention of stopping once more at the Tee Pee Trading Post in Lupton, Arizona, he lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles before scraping his teeth over them. It’s more affection than I’d had my entire marriage.

Inside the trading post, I wander while he finds something to wear. If I expect him to suddenly look like a tourist, I’m wrong. He steps out of the dressing room in olive green walking shorts and a gray tee that says Arizona across it. He could be a spokesman for the state and their outdoor adventures, and once more I shake my head at his good looks.

“You know, being a marketing man, you should whip up something for Prius. Instead of this poor car having a bad rap as the dad-mobile, you could show them what the modern dad looks like.”

Tucker chuckles. “And what’s that?”

I wave a hand up and down before his body, focusing on the heavier scruff of silver and ink on his face, and the tightness of his body. He’s one hot DILF and I’m happy to have done him. Prius would sell a ton of automobiles if they used his image for their campaigns. Hot dads do it eco-friendly. He cares about the environment and his body.

He laughs again as he spins to look at himself in the mirror. “Look alright?” he asks, smoothing a hand down those firm abs under body hugging cotton.

I hum in response, and he glances around before tugging me into the fitting room. With the curtain closed, I’m against the wall and he’s kissing me senseless. His mouth ravishes mine before he moves to my jaw.

“You make these little sounds when you come. Just like that hum.”

He might make me come kissing me like he is. Hungry lips and a twirling tongue make my knees go weak. Too soon, he finds the willpower to pull back; however, I remain slack against the wall a moment, trying to catch my breath.

His hand caresses my face, and he stares at me, smiling that crooked grin before taking my hand and exiting the small space. I wish I could read his mind and know what he’s thinking when he looks at me. Can he see in my eyes how I feel about him? Only five days and I’m falling so fast there isn’t a safety net that could catch me. And I’m going to need catching. I’m going to need something to cushion the crash when this man and I inevitably part.

26

Playlist: “Take It Easy” – Eagles

[Tucker]

Our next stop is Winslow and for the life of me I can’t think of why that name sounds familiar. Mae has been wiggling in her seat and I’m wondering if she needs the bathroom. She cannot sit still as she reminds me for the third time we need to stop in this small town.

Pulling into the area, a giant Route 66 emblem covers the brick paved corner of Route 66 and North Kinsley Avenue. A statue of a man stands on the corner with a brick façade behind it that reads: Winslow, Arizona.

“Just park anywhere,” Mae says, her voice rising with excitement. As we cross the street near the statue, I see a bright red truck with a flat bed and wooden gates on the side.

“Is that a flatbed Ford?” As soon as I say the words, the song hits me. “Take it Easy” by the Eagles is a famous song about a man on a road trip with worries on his mind. He’s standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona when he meets a woman who propositions him, wanting to know if love can save him.

“Here.” Mae hands me a small brown bag, folded over at the top and I question her with a look before opening the package.

“Mae,” I whisper, staring inside the bag.

A harmonica.

“A guitar is probably more appropriate for the corner, but I had no idea if you played. But you mentioned the harmonica and there was so much heart when you spoke about it. I just thought—”

My arms are around Mae and I’m crushing my lips to hers, kissing her despite other tourists on this corner. Pulling back before I take this moment to the level of indecent exposure, I rest my forehead against hers.

“This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.” I still have one arm around her as Mae beams up at me.

“I didn’t know if there was a certain kind or whatever but—”

“It’s perfect.” I cut her off again. “But where did you find this?”