He shrugs. "So?"
My mouth drops open. Gross. "So,go.I need to pee."
"Thenpee."
"Do you have a urination fetish, Dom?"
"Married people pee in front of each other."
"That's nice, but no. The first time your eyeballs are on my lady part won't be when I'm doing that."
He ignores me, tugging at a lock of my messy hair. "It won't be much longer before I'm up close and personal with what you have between your thighs, Chestnut."
I swallow. Hard. Dampness spreads over my underwear. Clearly it's my vagina crying.
"Go," I command, pointing out the door to the rest of the room.
Dom grins and backs up. He points at the part of me that's sobbing between my legs. "Her days are numbered. Not even days.Hours. She has hours until I ruin her."
My knees weaken, but I force myself to stay standing. Who is this man with this mouth? And whywhy WHYdo I love it?
Dom smirks and closes the door. I turn around, sinking back against the solid wood. In the mirror, a woman I don't recognize stares back at me. Pink cheeks, hair swirling around her. She is free of makeup, one of her pajama top straps lying haplessly against her shoulder. It's her eyes, though. Unguarded. At ease. Happy.
Dom's work, surely.
And maybe this road trip, too? This chance to see my family outside the roles we usually occupy? We are so far from being in a better place, but we can't get there unless we start somewhere.
This trip might be our first step.
CHAPTER 38
Cecily
We'rethree hours into our drive to Sierra Grande when Dom exits the highway to refuel Bernice. We've been listening to his playlist on repeat. His Vegas-themed songs make me smile, and his addition of "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift made me laugh. My favorites are the road trip classics, Bob Seger and Lynyrd Skynyrd, Bruce Springsteen and Fleetwood Mac.
Dom navigates Bernice off the dusty road and into the asphalt parking lot. I peer through the windshield at the gas station that, if it weren't for the fuel pumps, looks nothing like a gas station. "Are you sure this is a gas station?"
"There are pumps and people parked at them." Dom is looking too, trying to make sense of what we're seeing.
The gas station convenience store is called THE THING. The building is long and low slung, bricks painted in mustard yellow with ketchup red lettering. The vibe is slasher flick meets Ronald McDonald.
Dom eases Bernice into a spot vacated a moment ago by a van big enough to seat twelve, with windows tinted dark purple and faded lettering on the sides. It adds to the ambience of the place, and not in a good way.
Dom gets out and begins the refueling process, while I do a quick investigation on my phone.
"It looks legit," I tell Dom when he opens my passenger door. "This place is associated with a museum that claims to have mummified remains of a mother and her son. The Internet calls it a roadside attraction."
Swinging my legs from the car, I blink into the bright sun and stand. Tenting a hand over my eyes, I say, "No shade to mummified remains, but as roadside attractions go, I prefer Dom's Bulge."
Dom moves in closer, palming the side of my head. Lips hovering near my ear, he murmurs, "Funny thing about that attraction, it only appears for a certain person."
I pull back, feigning shock. "Hugh Jackman?"
Dom shakes his head and laughs, pulling me back in and pressing a light kiss to my lips. Thrill shoots down my spine. Look at us, kissing in public for no other reason than that we want to. What is happening?
"You are a very funny woman," Dom says, threading his fingers through mine. "Let's go into that weird place and see what we can find."
Turns out, THE THING is as odd as it sounds. Wood paneled walls make it more gift shop than convenience store, but it still offers a large selection of snacks and a refrigerated section. On every available surface is a tchotchke of some sort, and the walls have taxidermy animals with signs around their necks.Don't touch, I bite.
