My eyes were on the ceiling of the truck, but my head was churning his name over and over. It was hauntingly beautiful. I ached to say the whole name aloud.
“Killian Lemarque,” I whispered softly, before exhaustion of the day snuck up on me.
I was peacefully dreaming about being on the beach back home, with a strawberry daiquiri in my hand, when a non-serene voice entered my ears.
“Wake up. We’re leaving in thirty. Go wash or whatever it is you gotta do in the morning.” His voice made me wanna roll over and cover my head with the blanket.
“Your choice. Use it or lose it. We leave in twenty-nine.” I groaned and threw the blanket off me. Grabbing my little bag of toiletries, I shot him a glare while storming out of the truck. Into a cold gust of wind.
“Oh, God!” Too cold. I turned around and climbed back in so I could grab my sweater. If we were going to travel anywhere colder than here, I was going to need to pick up a heavy coat somewhere. The one I got before at Target wasn’t heavy enough.
I swore I heard Killian chuckle as I hopped back into the chilled air and stomped towards the restrooms. There wasn’t a shower, but I splashed myself with water and cleaned up. Once dressed in new leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, I bundled up in my sweater and went in search of coffee. Normally I wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but if I was going to have to deal with Killian, the smallest ray of sunshine, I was going to need a little extra push of energy.
By the time I strolled back to the truck, Killian was ready to go.
“Okay. Let’s hit the road.” It made me feel kinda cool to say that. Wrapping my fingers around my steaming coffee from the vending machine, I warmed up quickly and started to get excited for being on the road again. Maybe it made me crazy, but I truly felt like the road gave me peace. So many people swore if they could, they would just pack a bag and hit the road, with no clue as to their destination. Just drive wherever the road took them. Well, I did that. I was pretty proud of my decision.
I made a big jump and was willing to see where it took me. Even with grumpy as my navigator, it was an adventure, and when the road came to an end, I would be a different person. I knew it deep in my soul.
“So, I know how upset you are about it, but we failed day one on our twenty-one questions plan. We have to make up for it today.”
He grunted, and I decided to take that as enthusiasm.
“Your turn to start.” I sipped my coffee and waited. He sighed, but then opened his mouth to speak.
“Do you know you snore?” I choked on that sweet sip of coffee. Snore? Me, snore?
“I do not snore,” I snorted. How appropriate.
“You do,” he retorted, and I was mortified.
“Nuh-uh.” I sipped more coffee, denying it all the way.
“Still wanna play your game?” I swore he cracked a smile right there. Maybe it was my imagination, but it was a daydream I would hold onto for a long time.
“Yes, I’m not a quitter.”
“Of course you aren’t.” I huffed after his response. Well, at least we were learning some things about each other. Trying to come up with a good question, we sat in silence while I thought things over. It actually took a while, especially since I kept trying to come up with a little retaliation question, but settled on something normal. I know, very boring.
“Do you always wear jeans when you drive?” Like I said, boring. My eyes took him in for the first time this morning. Just as handsome as yesterday, so that wasn’t part of my imagination, at least. He was wearing another thermal shirt, in gray this time, plus jeans, and boots.
“No. I can wear whatever I want.”
“You probably won’t see me without leggings or yoga pants on during this trip.” It was the God’s honest truth. For one, it was chilly. No daisy dukes covering this ass during the day. And two, they were comfy. If one was going to be riding around in a truck all day, they needed to be comfy.
“Your turn.” The sun’s rising light hit me and made me turn my head towards him to escape being blinded. He glanced at me slightly before focusing back on the road.
“What’s that smell you’re wearing?” I looked at him in confusion before realizing what he was asking.
“Oh, it’s lemongrass and vanilla. One of my signature sprays.” Pride blossomed in me then wilted away.
“Your signature?” he asked, and I suddenly felt reluctant to talk about it. It was still fresh. Sensing my hesitancy, he gave me a look like he was trying to see through my eyes and into my head, but then gave up when he didn’t see anything of value. I wanted to talk about it. I mean, I made a choice; I should stick with it. Without my decision, I wouldn’t be here in this truck with him.
After a few minutes of mulling it over in my mind, I finally went with communication.
“I used to run my own botanical beauty store. I made soaps, face creams, lotions, body sprays. Stuff like that. But all made with essential oils and organic ingredients. I just sold it, though.” My voice fell, in saying the last bit. I looked out my window, avoiding his gaze that I felt like a shadow looming over me.
He was back to being quiet after that. I was, too. My positive box, that I tried to place all my worries in, had a dent on the lid now. There was no stopping the thoughts that were running through my head now. Did I make the right decision, selling my business? I thought so, but predictability was something I always craved. That’s what my life had become, and I was all right with it for a long time. Then it all changed, and I didn’t have it anymore.
