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“What, you think I can’t hack it ‘cause I’m a chick?” She was playing, but I heard the edge in her voice.
“Hey, any woman who wants to drive cross-country has every right to, you do you.” I meant it. “But if my sisters made that trek alone, especially in winter, I’d worry.”
She stopped and gave me a searching look that seemed to see right into the very heart of me.
“Where are you on your way to?”
“Family in San Ramon,” I said. “It’s near–”
“I know what it’s near.” She smiled at me. “I grew up in the area.”
“Makes sense why we’re both stuck here,” I said. Then I looked at the rental agreement in her hand. “Well, I’m stuck. You’ve got a way out.”
“You know,” she said slowly, “I was maybe joking before, but how about I make that offer real?”
“What offer?”
“To ride with me,” she said. “It’s a long drive to make alone. I’ll have to stop to sleep, stretch my legs, keep awake. But the trip could be done in half the time if I had someone take turns driving.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Are you seriously asking a stranger to drive across the country with you? I’m pretty sure that’s how horror movies start.”
“Or Hallmark movies.”
Her widening grin triggered a surge of desire that left me paralyzed for a moment. Not even during my marriage with Ava had I felt such an intense, primal response.
“You really trust me that much? A complete stranger?” I asked skeptically.
She shrugged. “I’ve got this sixth sense about people.” Then she held up her phone and snapped a pic. “But just in case you turn out to be a serial killer, I’m sending your mug to my dad. That way, if I vanish somewhere along the Mississippi, he’ll know who to hunt down.”
“Why wait for the Mississippi?” I deadpanned. “I could get rid of you back in St. Louis.”
She cackled as she handed her ticket to the attendant.
“We need some rules,” she said, glancing at me. “Not for safety or driving, but so we don’t actually end up in a Hallmark movie.”
“Not a fan?” I asked.
“I’ve occasionally indulged,” she said. “But I don’t want to star in a real live one. Do you?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, I’m not that much of a romantic.”
“Good.”
She didn’t hide the attraction in her eyes, and I knew my own heated the same way when I looked at her. Physically wanting her differed from romantically wanting her, at least for me, but I didn’t dare to ask if she felt the same. Since we would be in a car together for two days, I didn’t want to jeopardize our easy banter.
“Rule number one: dodge every cheesy cliché like the plague,” she declared. “That means zero bedroom mix-ups like sharing a double-bed and avoiding quaint snow-globe towns with twinkle lights.”
“And absolutely no mistletoe meet-cutes,” I chimed in.
“Spot on.” Her laughter was infectious. “But for real, let’s keep it to the fun shit; no dating interviews. I don’t want to know what you do for a living, and I don’t even wanna know which city you flew in from. This isnota date. Agree?”
My head nodded in agreement as she continued. “We can shoot the breeze about our dysfunctional family holidays or debate ifDie Hardis a Christmas flick. Just promise me there’s not a pissed-off significant other who’s gonna hunt me down for hijacking her dude.”
“First off,Die Hardis a Christmas movie—end of story. And second? There’s no ball and chain here.” I eyed her left hand, casually perched on her luggage. “Your turn. Will I find an angry boyfriend in my DMs, or are you flying solo?”
Given that she mentioned sending my photo and name to her father, not her boyfriend, I doubted it, but I still wanted to be certain. My rationale was that I didn’t want to be in a situation where a guy would punch me in the face for hitching a ride with his girlfriend. Then another part of me wanted to know if she was taken; if being attracted to her was okay.
“No,” she said, her eyes softening. “I’m also single.”
