“She’s been plannin’ this for years, you know,” Chief says while staring at the gas pump.
“Planning what?”
“Road trip. She has a whole list. Things she wants to do. Places she wants to see. Never thought she’d be brave enough to actually do it.”
Someone might as well wrap a fist around my heart and clench as hard as they can. “What kind of things?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” Chief caps the gas tank and heads toward the store. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, she’ll let you be the one to help her check more off that someday list of hers.”
Moments later, Clover exits the building, pressing herself against the side of it until she spots me, then makes a beeline for me, holding a snow globe of a farm stand full of peaches.
“They had a gift shop.” She presses the snow globe to my chin. “It’s got glitter.”
Innocent. So damn innocent. And every time I see her, I want to defile her in every way possible.
Lusting after a client is a terrible idea that’s never been a problem for me before. Lusting after the one person who knows all my secrets could be disastrous…and yet, I can’t seem to do a fucking thing about it. “It’s very…sparkly.”
“I love it,” she says, making me smile as she shakes it to watch the golden peaches swirl around the farm stand. “We couldn’t make many stops when Miriam was helping me get away from ROS. This is my first souvenir on my first real road trip.”
She’s perfect.
My phone buzzes with a group text from my cousins, and I groan.
Chase: How’s our girl doing?
Sterling: I’ve been monitoring traffic cams. No tails that I can see.
Grant: Mom would have loved her, V. Just wanted you to know that.
My throat burns. Grant doesn’t bring up his mother lightly. Him recognizing something worth mentioning in Clover means more than I know how to say, so I pocket my phone.
“What else can we check off your bucket list?” I ask.
She freezes, and her happy smile morphs into a strange wobble. “My what?”
“Chief said you have a road trip bucket list of things you want to do.”
“Chief has a big mouth,” she mutters as a beautiful blush creeps across her cheeks.
“Tell me.”
“It’s silly?—”
“Clover.” I wait until she meets my gaze. “Tell. Me.”
She fidgets with the snow globe. “It’s just— When I first moved to Happiness, I started making lists of things I’d do when I was brave. Stupid stuff mostly.” She shakes the snow globe again. “I’ve been there for years, and my list just keeps…growing.”
“Like what?”
“Um.” She hesitates, scanning our surroundings while her cheeks redden. “Like karaoke in a dive bar. Or stopping at every murder motel we pass. Or—” She looks away.
“Or?”
“Dancing in the rain,” she whispers. “Like in the movies where it just…happens. Spontaneous and reckless and?—”
“Romantic?” My pulse kicks up as if it approves of this idea.
“Yeah.” She stares at anything and everything. Except me. “See? Stupid.”
