by Cd Brennan
There was a long line of players at all the food counters except Taco Bell, not the best food to have in your guts the day of a tournament. There were lines at Subway, Noodle Stop, and the sushi kiosk. Dave was considering the noodle place for a big feed of hokkien stir fry when Cherry waltzed right up to the Taco Bell counter, not even bothering to look for Dick first. Strange.
And the next thing he knew his feet were leading him to the same counter. He didn’t want her to be on her own and all. That was what he told himself at least. If Dick wouldn’t look after her, Dave would. That was what the Blues brothers did for each other.
He stepped up to the counter next to her and felt her gaze fall on him. She’d ordered and was waiting, an empty tray with a docket in front of her. He hadn’t eaten Taco Bell since high school, since he’d learned about nutrition and asked his mother to teach him to cook. Nothing, absolutely nothing, looked appealing. Maybe he’d wait it out and buy some fruit from the convenience store on the corner, selling everything from the stray banana and bottles of water to three-dollar paperbacks in a spinning rack. But then he’d look like a complete idiot after standing next to her here.
“Aren’t you going to order?” she asked, her arms crossed. She turned around and leaned her butt against the counter.
“Uh, sure.” Dave turned to the bored teenager behind the register. His hat was worn at a tilt as if he was still trying to be cool even when he was working at Taco Bell. Dave could tell him that was impossible. “Could I have three deluxe steak burritos, please?” Before the kid could punch it in, Dave interrupted, “Actually, make that four.”
After he swiped his card, he spared a glance at Sierra whose red mouth hung open in a tantalizing O. “Eat much?”
“Up to four thousand calories a day.”
“My, oh my.” She smirked at him, but it wasn’t in a nasty way. Like a sexy way. “I suppose a big man like you…”
That’s right, Miss Cherry Mouth. Dave had the urge to flex his guns for the first time in his life, but at that moment, Dick bounced over and grabbed Sierra around the neck in a rough manner, messing her smooth hair. Dave was about to speak up, but then held himself in check. She wasn’t his to defend.
She threw his hands off her shoulders. “Dick, cut it out.”
Good girl.
Dick ignored her rebuke and asked, “So are you having a good time yet?”
She smoothed her hair and picked up her tray that had one measly wrapped burrito on it plus a small drink. “It’s about time you asked. Where are you sitting?”
“Already done, sis.”
Sis? Sister?
Dave’s heart thumped out of beat. Sister? As in a female that shared one or both parents with Dick?
That was the best news he’d heard all year! And kinda weird news at the same time.
She sighed. “C’mon and sit with me then while I eat.”
“No can do. Gonna go back to the bus with a couple of the boys and sneak a can.”
She growled at him. “Seriously? This is supposed to be our weekend.”
“For fuck sake, Sierra. It’s not like I don’t see you all the time.”
“When you want something,” she grumbled.
Dave had his tray in hand. “I’ll keep you company.”
They both looked to him, and Dick’s grin on his face grew into a wrinkled Grinch smile. “There you go. Dave will sit with ya. Dave’s a good guy. A bit vanilla…” He elbowed Dave in the ribs. “Just kidding, Dave.” Dick gave Sierra another head-lock hug. “I trust you with Dill Dave, the big oaf that he is. He won’t try anything with you.”
And with that, Dick left, jogging to catch up with the rest of the boys already on the way out. His sister, Sierra, had gone from spunky with attitude to deflated. It was all over her face in spades and in the slump of her shoulders. She was shaking her head, her mouth pinched, and blinking rapidly. Uh oh. She was going to cry.
Dave said gently, “There’s an open table just over there.” He walked a few steps, but then stopped, turned, and waited for her. She seemed to just notice that Dave had moved away. With a last look at the doors her brother had vanished through, she followed and sat across from Dave.
His heart went out to her. And if he could, he would summon from the air a bouquet of flowers for her. What flowers would she like? He knew her very little, but Dave made an income by being able to read a person’s type. He’d tagged her right at the beginning. She was feisty like hot sauce. Strong-willed. But there was a softness and vulnerability under her shell, and it had shown with her brother.
He unwrapped his food and dug in. As much as he’d love to sit with her all night, many of the Blues had already left to go back to the bus. Only Coach, Shaun, Del, Rory, and a few others lingered as they chatted. But they’d be up and gone soon, and he wanted to brush his teeth yet. Especially after this Mexican food. Not the tastiest stuff in the world, and he’d probably regret it tomorrow, but it filled a hole in his belly.
He ate in peace and didn’t force the conversation but, while sneaking peaks at her, still thought on the bouquet of flowers he would send her. She was beautiful, as should be her flowers. He could picture the bouquet in his head as clear as day: monstera and ti leaves for the greenery with some foxtail fern, red anthurium for the shape and texture, red carnations and orange roses. Not red roses. They weren’t unique enough for a woman like her, but they did have accents of red on their tips. And perhaps some curly bamboo to shoot straight up from the middle and bring it all together.
She finally spoke up while she ate her burrito with a knife and fork. “So…are you friends with Dick?”
Dave choked on his bite of burrito so that he coughed and hacked into a napkin, sounding like a pack-a-day smoker. Were any of them friends with Dick except Mouth? And even then, were they really friends or just trouble buddies? She eyed him as he gulped the Coke in front of him. When he finally got himself under control, he answered, “I don’t know him that well.” And then added for her sake, “Unfortunately. I don’t hang out with the Blues much after the rugby.”
She stopped her sawing with the plastic cutlery and rested her hands on the table, the fork and knife poised like maracas. “You can tell me. Not many like him, do they?”
Dave finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped his mouth before replacing the paper napkin on his lap. He considered a moment, then kept his answer as honest as possible. “He’s a big part of the Blues team and a good player.”
“That didn’t really answer my question, but okay, I get it. I don’t like him most days either.”
“But he’s your brother.”
“Exactly.” It was as if she noticed what she was eating for the first time. She eyed the rest of the brown gunk squeezing from her burrito, rewrapped it, set it on the tray, and pushed it away.
Dave hadn’t exactly enjoyed his either but he’d been hungry. He was always hungry. As he rose with his tray in his hand, he grabbed hers from the table, too, and went to deposit them in one of the trash bins.
“Thanks,” she said when he returned. Using a compact mirror, she reapplied her lipstick.
Originally, when he’d first seen her, he had loved the impact her “look” had on his designer heart. Everything so pale and light in contrast to the red of the lips. But now that he thought about it, yes, definitely her hair would look better darker with her pale eyes. So then she wouldn’t look so washed out, so much like a ghost.
“I have to go to the men’s room.”
A small laptop was visible as she shifted stuff about in her bag. “Okay.”
“The bus should be parked around back.”
She finally looked up at him and raised her eyebrows like, What are you waiting for then?
Right. Their connection hadn’t really been one at all. His mistake. Of course, she’d only humored him because he had followed her like a puppy to the table. He wanted to say something in closing, but instead knocked the back of the chair with his knuckles a couple of times and then
turned and left.
Chapter 3
When Dave stepped out of the men’s room, Sierra was waiting against the opposite wall. His heart skipped a beat, but he gathered himself together to appear calm and collected, his usual form du jour.
Sierra was one of those people that every time you saw them, they struck a chord. Not a person that could be easily lost in the masses, she would never blend. Before he reached her, she was already speaking. “The bus is gone.”
What? “Are you sure?”
She grunted. “Uh, yeah.”
Dave moved toward the exit. The truck stop was quiet, the food counters bare of people, only a few sitting at the tables. He picked up his pace with long strides until she was jogging next to him. The same smell of diesel hit his nose as they stepped out into the night. He turned right immediately to take them around back.
The first corner didn’t reveal anything but the fueling pumps for the big trucks, and on the second turn there was only a semi idling at the far side of a large parking lot. He stopped so abruptly she ran into the back of him. Shit. She was right.
She gestured outward. “See? It’s gone.”
Dave scratched his head. Shoot.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “How could they have left without us?”
Well, he’d been the one in charge of roll call, and she was only a +1 on the list. He reached into his back pocket and groaned when his phone wasn’t there. He had left it in his backpack since he didn’t have any pockets in his fleece and didn’t want to sit on it. He wasn’t one attached to his phone, anyway. Even with owning a shop. “I’d call one of the lads, but my phone is on the bus.”
Her phone was already in hand. “I tried to call Dick, but I’ll try again.”
Dave walked to the farthest side of the building to make sure the bus wasn’t there, but was doubtful—it was for cars only. And just as he thought, nothing.
When he returned, she shook her head at him, her beautiful red mouth scrunched and twisted to the side. “He’s not answering. And I doubt he will if he fit a few cans in before the rest got on the bus. He’s probably crashed. He was up late last night playing Call of Duty or some crap.”
Dave inhaled and let out a big breath. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of the other boys’ numbers? Like Mouth?” At her confusion, he said, “Damian, Dick’s friend.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
He looked around them. Not much here. What town were they in, anyway?
Sierra started walking toward the front entrance, and he followed. “Where are you going?”
“Back inside. We’ll just have to keep trying until someone hears his phone.”
“No, that won’t work. We might not be able to reach him for a while, and I wouldn’t ask the bus to turn back around for us. They’re probably miles gone by now.”
She stopped in front of the main doors and paced away, her phone to her ear again. When she hung up, she growled. “This is just great.”
There were worse things Dave could imagine other than being stuck with a sexy woman, but that wouldn’t help to say. “Well, we can either go hang out inside all night and get to know each other, or there is a Motel 8 across the road.”
“Where we can get to know each other?” She snorted. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
That wasn’t what Dave meant. “I was thinking we could each get a room. At least we’d get a good night’s rest.” He still wanted to play good rugby tomorrow.
“Nope, can’t afford it.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
She eyed him before shoving her phone back into her purse. “You go ahead. I’ll just stay here. I don’t mind. They have Wi-Fi. I’ll keep busy.”
Dave stepped off the curb in the direction of the road. “Seriously, I don’t mind. It’s going to be a long weekend at Nash Bash. We might as well get some sleep tonight.”
She had a hand on the door already, but hesitated. He couldn’t leave her here on her own. At some point, the food places would shut down, and who knew what pervs hung out at a truck stop all night. If he had to, he would stay with her, but he’d rather a bed, and they’d sort the problem first thing in the morning. He wanted to grab her arm and lead her across the road, but forcing anyone to do anything never worked. He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. “See, I’m harmless. And we’ll get you a room where you can have a shower and a bed.”
Sierra looked across the road at the motel. She was chewing her bottom lip.
He stuck out his arm like a wing. “Grab on, and we’ll get ourselves some rest.”
“Okay, but if you take care of the rooms, I’ll sort our transportation for tomorrow.”
“If you insist.” He glanced at her briefly as she stepped up to him. Then he waited. A moment later, she took his arm. Even though he kept his expression passive, his chest swelled. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever had on his arm. That she was Dick’s sister was a…wonder. After spending the last hour with her, he had picked up mannerisms of hers that were the same as Dick’s. It was hard to see past, but Dave believed everyone got a chance to prove themselves.
The night sky was overcast, the few lights around the truck stop and along the state road casting a dim glow into the clouds. Only a few courageous stars peeked through to offer any inspiration to a couple walking arm in arm.
Sierra was quiet as he stepped them off the curb and walked them across the road. She cleared her throat as if to say something, but then didn’t speak. There were a half dozen vehicles parked in front of the doors. Fingers crossed, they had 24-hour reception. It was almost one a.m. Dave removed his hands from his pockets to open the door for her, and when he did, she dropped her arm. Pity. He yanked, but it was locked.
She pointed at a small sign over a doorbell. Ring after 12. Sierra took the initiative and pressed, not only once, but a few times. He couldn’t imagine that was a nice way to wake up. As if she knew what Dave was thinking, she said, “Just in case they’re sleeping.”
After a light blinked on, a shape lumbered toward the door, unlocked both the bolt and handle lock, and then cracked open the door. “Can I help you?”
Dave had to twist his head around past Sierra to see the man. He was maybe in his fifties, or younger perhaps, but the years hadn’t done him well. He was balding with a comb-over and wore jeans that sagged off the back of his rear. A skinny thing in a baggy sweatshirt. “We would like to get a room.”
With pinched eyebrows, Sierra elbowed him in the side. Before Dave could make the correction, the man said, “By the hour or…?”
“Oh, my God,” said Sierra and she walked away.
“Hold up a second,” Dave said. She stopped, turned and jutted out her hip where she set her hand. Definitely no longer happy. He asked the man quickly, “We are looking for two rooms just for tonight. Do you have anything?”
Comb-over eyed Dave up and down. “Hold on.”
He closed the door, turned the lock, and walked back to a counter barely visible in the one lamplight. Sierra still stood in the middle of the parking lot, and Dave was torn between waiting at the door for the man to return or going to her. But he got the impression she wouldn’t want that—her arms were crossed over her chest and her face was turned away toward the truck stop.
Finally, Comb-over returned. “I have one room left.”
Shit. “Can we both stay?”
The guy looked at him like he was simple. “Yeah.”
“Do you have any pull-out beds?”
“Nope, and that’s all we got.” Dave could tell the man just wanted to get back to sleep.
“Okay, we’ll take it.”
“Eighty-five bucks and payment up front.”
Dave slipped him a credit card and waited again while Comb-over went back to the reception counter. Sierra who was now pacing back and forth, a few strides, a sharp pivot, and then a few strides back. He waited until he had her attention and then waved her over.
Just as she stepped to his
side, Comb-over returned and held out Dave’s credit card and one old-style key with a plastic, rectangle keychain dangling from it.
“Thanks.”
The guy nodded and promptly locked the reception. On the keychain was printed the number 2, the room closest to the attached office area. If people were here by the hour, no wonder this was the last room to be requested. He just prayed the motel was clean. Not exactly the style and quality that he would like to show a lady.
He walked toward the door with Sierra following. She hadn’t said much at all since her genuine smile at him ten minutes ago. That now felt like a year. He opened the door to a dark room. Only a slight smell of disinfectant wafted out to them. He crossed fingers it was decent and threw on the light.
Not bad. At least from the initial inspection. Looked your typical 3-star motel with ugly bedspread and matching curtains. But it was tidy. A double bed was in the middle of the room with a cabinet and TV across from it. Ahead was a luggage area and to the right he assumed was the bathroom. He motioned her in and shut the door.
Sierra immediately went to a small round table in the corner adjacent to the door and unloaded a small laptop from her purse. Didn’t say a word about the room or that there was only one bed, not even an oversize chair to curl up in. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t mind.” It would be hell tomorrow playing the tournament, but Dave would forego the after-parties to get rested up for the next day.
When she didn’t respond, Dave stepped out of the bathroom where he was taking a looksee to find her booting up her laptop. Huh.
Surprisingly, the mini fridge in the cabinet was stocked. Didn’t think it would be, but it was a nice surprise. Since the room was on his credit card, he helped himself to one of the mini whiskey bottles. “Did you want something to drink?” He gestured to the fridge.
“No, thanks.” She had wedged herself in the wooden chair by the heating unit. Perhaps he made her uncomfortable…
He smacked his forehead with his palm. Of course, he did. He was a large man who could overpower her in a second in a motel room out in the middle of nowhere. And unfortunately he had a face like an alpha gorilla, not the most angelic mug in the world. But he was no alpha. She just didn’t know that.