I don't answer him as he turns off the freeway. He pulls into one of those massive gas stations that could double as a supermarket, and I nearly snort at the ridiculous image of thestation’s mascot plastered over the huge sign hanging over the swing doors. It’s a brightly colored cartoon rooster with the word ‘Cluckers’ printed under it.
The experience is made even better when some sorry sap dressed in a rooster costume comes out of the store, lights a cigarette, and props himself against the stone wall. His hand comically dips past the wide beak of the costume’s headpiece as he takes a drag. Patrons don't seem to mind him as truckers and families enter the store.
“This is what nightmares are made of,” I smile, climbing out of the truck.
“We need to be quick. In and out.” Rowan instructs as he cuts the truck and follows after me.
The life of the party.
“Oh, wait!” I call, turning back towards the truck. “I forgot my purse.”
Rowan grabs my bicep, stopping me. “You don't need it. I’ll pay.”
I yank my arm out of his grip. “I don't need a man to pay for me. You paid for my breakfast, which I gracefully vomited up. I’ll handle this.”
He steps back, holding his hands up. “Okay,Passenger Princess. Good luck getting in the truck without the keys.”
My mouth falls open as my eyes narrow. “Did you just call me a passenger princess?”
He crosses those bulging arms, looking smug. “I did. What are you going to do about it?”
I release a growl of frustration. “Unlock the damn truck!”
“No.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “Fine! You’re paying,dick.”
“I am,” he agrees, and I want to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face as I storm past him. An idea brews as he reaches around me and opens the door.
“Thanks,” I spat, stomping off in the direction of the bathrooms. The inside of the store is just as overwhelming as the outside, with high shelves lined with snacks, souvenirs,and t-shirts. There’s a deli along the back wall where a line of people wait for their orders, about five or six employees stationed behind registers ringing up patrons’ purchases, and tuckerseverywhere, browsing the aisles and getting their lunches before they get back on the road.
I spot the bathroom sign to the far right and maneuver through the crowd. I can feel Rowan at my back, but I don't give him the satisfaction of turning around to look for him as I pass a mother struggling to handle her two kids. She has a wailing baby in her arms as a toddler throws a tantrum at her feet. Her long, dark hair is tied into a knotted mess atop her head, and she has dark circles under her eyes, as if she hasn't slept in days. She pleads quietly for the toddler to listen, but he’s in full meltdown mode.
I glance around, hoping to notice anyone who may be with this family, but judging by the people ignoring her, I think she's alone in this. My chest pinches, and before I know it, I’m walking down the aisle rather than heading for the bathroom.
“Hey,” I greet meekly. “Do you need some help?”
The mother does a double-take, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out as the baby in her arms cries louder.
She coos softly at the infant, bouncing her as she rocks back and forth. “She’s hungry, but I have my hands full.” She laughs weakly, shaking her head. “I just needed to grab some water and chips.”
“What kind?” Rowan asks from behind me, and I nearly jump at how close he sounds to me.
The mother tilts her chin toward the display. “Those.”
He grabs a bag. “I’ll find the water. Get them to the register.” He’s gone in the blink of an eye, lumbering off to the coolers.
“Well,” I smile. “You heard him. Let’s go.”
The toddler on the ground only screams louder, slapping his hands on the dirty floor as his chubby cheeks turn a bright shade of red.
“I’m so sorry,” the mom apologizes as she attempts topick him up. “We’ve been in the car for hours, and their dad is on a business trip. I’m traveling to my parents’ house for the extra help.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I reassure her as I squat down to the little boy’s level. “Do you mind if I try something?”
She shakes her head. “Anything is better than nothing.”
Nothing like a little trauma to get the blood flowing.
