Unless it’s because I was so unmemorable.
Maybe she has a million one-night stands, and I was justanother on her long list. Maybe our night was underwhelming to her when it was overwhelming to me.
It’s harder than I thought it would be to pretend nothing’s happened between us, but it’s made slightly easier by her clear disinterest.
My therapist, Colleen, tells me all the time that I need to worry less about other people’s opinions, especially if they haven’t made them clear.
Easier said than done.
Ten minutes into the drive, the silence is making me itchy. I keep taking sips of coffee to give my mouth something to do other than badger her with questions or spew the random thoughts rolling around in my brain. I want to ask if she likes the music. Does she like the ranch? What got her into barrel racing? Where is she from originally? Is this her first time working on a dude ranch? Why isn’t she on the rodeo circuit this year? Has she ever been to Montana? Does she have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Theyfriend?
None of my business.
In the end, I don’t ask her anything. I’d end up with my foot in my mouth.
This is going to be a long car ride.
Chapter 4
Juniper won’t stop fidgeting.
For the past hour, she’s been tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel, rubbing her palms on her thighs, and her hands tremble when she takes a sip of her drink. She keeps rolling her shoulders like she’s trying to stretch the muscle, and she won’t stop shifting in her seat.
At first, I thought she was trying to get comfortable, or maybe she was stiff from the drive, but I don’t think that’s it anymore. Does she need to use the bathroom? According to her phone, we’re twenty minutes away from our destination, but…
“Do you need to stop?” I finally ask, irritation prickling the back of my neck.
“No, why?”
“You’re fidgeting like you’re about to pee your pants.”
“Oh. Sorry. No, I’m okay.”
“Then why are you moving so much?”
“I’m a little restless. Long drive and all.”
I don’t believe her. That may be part of the reason, but it’s not the whole reason. I watch out of the corner of my eye as she clampsher lips shut and bites her cheek like she’s keeping in the words she wants to say.
I won’t lie—I half expected her to start peppering me with questions. I know she probably has a million rattling around in that head of hers, and if I'm honest with myself, I have questions of my own. Like, why was she so against coming today? Was it because of me? The way her dad talked, it was almost like she was afraid of shopping.
Who’s scared of a grocery store?
“You can get out soon and stretch your legs.” I don’t know why I feel the need to offer her a bit of comfort, but the words slip out.
She hums in affirmation before the cab falls silent again.
Jesus, this is more awkward than I thought it would be. Then again, I’ve never run into a one-night stand again after and had to spend multiple hours with them in a truck.
I hope shopping doesn’t take too long.
We’re halfway through the list, walking down the aisle with all the spices, when some lady runs into our cart with hers. Juniper gasps, apologizing profusely even though it wasn’t her fault.
“You clumsy fool,” the lady shouts. “You should watch where you’re going.”
“She apologized. Move on,” I snap at the old bitch.
I’m not going to let her keep talking like that. It was an accident—one that washerfault, and one that wasn’t more than a bump. If anyone should be upset, it’s us.
