Twice Upon a Roadtrip

by Shannon Stacey

  She expected him to ignore her, but he glanced over at her. “When I was a kid my best friend in the world moved away. He gave me a cool Garfield magnet as a goodbye present.”

  Crap. Jill wondered if they made an asshole-identifying T-shirt in her own size. “I’m so sorry. Now seeing Garfield reminds you of loss and saying goodbye?”

  Ethan snorted, and she thought he would spray coffee all over the steering wheel. It was a close call. “Do they give degrees in daytime talk show psychobabble, or can you practice without a license?”

  “I guess you know which part of my anatomy you can plant those lips on, don’t you?” Jill fixed her gaze on the tree line, watching them whip by in a blur. She should have bought a book in the gift shop. Even the mild queasiness brought on by reading in the car would be better than arguing with Ethan for the rest of the trip.

  “Why, did I miss a spot?”

  Her head whipped back around and she saw that his face was as crimson as hers felt. It was obvious he couldn’t believe he’d said that and amusement bubbled in her throat. “No, you hit all the right places.”

  Ethan kept his eyes on the road as they were swallowed up in awkward silence. Jill couldn’t think of a single thing to say about the night—and morning—they’d spent together that would make either of them feel more at ease.

  Considering that the fireworks they usually set off weren’t of the passionate sort, she was surprised they had turned out to be so compatible in bed. Compatible? Heck, he would have knocked her socks off if she’d been wearing any.

  She’d never been so completely and thoroughly pleasured before, even after a do-it-yourself orgasm. Ethan had kissed all the right spots. He’d run his tongue over her most sensitive flesh until she thought she’d die from the sensation. And he hadn’t even tried to stick his tongue in her ear. It was like she’d managed to summon her own sexual genie.

  “I hate this T-shirt,” Ethan grumbled again and she smiled at his weak attempt to cover his embarrassment. A sexual genie with issues, of course. “Sometime between milking my bank accounts dry and running off with a cop, my wife stuck a goodbye note to the fridge.”

  Ouch. No wonder he was cranky. “With your Garfield magnet?”

  He nodded. “She was a lot like you.”

  “Excuse me? I’ve never left a Dear John letter stuck on anybody’s fridge.” She hadn’t left Poor Eddy so much as a Dear John memo—just left him waiting in his tux. But Ethan didn’t need to know that.

  “No, but you’re beautiful and fickle and unreliable, just like her.”

  Jill’s temper flashed from matchstick to napalm blast in a nanosecond. “Maybe you should have made that comparison before you fell into bed with me, don’t you think?”

  “Why?” He looked at her for a moment, anger shadowing his eyes. “It didn’t mean anything, right?”

  It was a good thing the jumble of emotions that question evoked bottlenecked in her throat, because Jill had no idea what might have popped out of her mouth at that second.

  The son of a bitch had her over a barrel and he probably knew it. She couldn’t agree it meant nothing or she’d prove his point for him. Satan would need snowshoes before that happened. And she couldn’t disagree without confessing that the night just might have meant more to her than she let on.

  “I don’t go around falling into bed with every guy I meet,” she said after a deep breath. There, that was noncommittal.

  “Then why do you carry a—” he paused, seemed to shudder, “—protection in your purse?”

  Awareness fell on Jill like a ton of bricks. Ethan was provoking her purposely, picking a fight so he wouldn’t have to talk about anything personal.

  He didn’t want to let her in—wanted to keep her at a distance. What better way than making her angry enough to give him the silent treatment. She would try not to take the bait.

  “My sister gave them to me as a hint I need to date more. We were at my parents’ house at the time, so I shoved them in there and forgot about them. And you have one in your wallet,” she pointed out, smiling sweetly at him. He ignored her, but he didn’t have to answer. Redness crept up his neck. “And you were married.”

  “And the…thing probably expired sometime during the Reagan administration.”

  “Oh shit…the expiration date.”

  Ethan almost pinballed between an eighteen-wheeler and the guardrail. “What? How old were those things we used last night?”

  “Condoms!” Jill shouted. “Why can’t you say it? Condom, condom, condom!”

  “Shut up!” He steered the Taurus across the slow lane, over the rumble strip and brought it to a skidding stop in a cloud of roadside dust. “You drive. I need a nap. You can’t drive me insane if I’m sleeping.”

  “Wanna bet?” she mumbled, shifting over to the driver’s side while Ethan walked around the car.

  She watched him move, his shoulders stiff with aggravation. She got a secret thrill, knowing what he looked like under those clothes—what the hot, smooth flesh of his back felt like.

  She knew that lightly running her fingernails over his back, right below where a belt would ride, made his entire body shudder with want. She knew he liked to wrap his fingers in her hair. And she knew he kissed like a god. That damn kiss…

  He got in, oblivious to the pheromones she had to be pumping out. After putting his seat back, he closed his eyes. Jill put her seat belt on, letting the engine idle while she watched the clock.

  A full minute passed before he growled and looked up at her. “What are you waiting for?”

  “You forgot to buckle up.”

  “Oh for…” He snapped the latch and closed his eyes so tightly she was surprised it didn’t hurt.

  Jill rejoined the flow of traffic and then set about passing as many vehicles as she could. She had to hit the seek button at least a dozen times before she found a radio station she liked. The wrinkle between Ethan’s brows deepened each time the music changed. She found the Top 40, set the volume control at six and sang along as the miles sped by.

  She was disappointed when Ethan started snoring. The man could sleep through anything. And she would, too, if she didn’t find some coffee soon. The caffeine from her two morning cups was expended long ago. He really should have known that a single woman who bought her coffee in the extra-large cans would require more than two cups, but he’d insisted they get on the road.

  While she concentrated on overtaking a minivan with luggage strapped to every conceivable surface, thoughts of the night—and morning—she spent with Ethan crept into her mind.

  One thought sprang to the forefront and Jill felt as if her stomach had dropped into the Marianas Trench. She may have injected some much needed passion into her life, but she’d also shot herself in the foot.

  There was no way she could ask Ethan to help her get her job back now. Not without looking as if she was trading favors, so to speak, and she had no doubt he would jump straight to that conclusion. Thinking she faked it to get her job back would give him another excuse to treat her like crap.

  Truthfully, the library hadn’t crossed her mind at all during the night. Now there was no sense in worrying about it. And she wouldn’t.

  She could find a new job, and she didn’t have to sling burgers. She could work at the home improvement warehouse, directing customers down the wrong aisles. Or she could work at the supermarket—maybe as the lettuce sprayer. That would be pretty hard to screw up, even for her.

  And Ethan would go back to Connecticut and do whatever boring and uptight thing he did there. Like she needed another person in her life judging her and finding her wanting. But she’d miss the way he looked at her right before he kissed her. She’d miss the way he smiled and tucked her stray strands of hair behind her ears so he could see her face.

  She sniffed and punched the radio’s seek button again. It had to be the country music. Somewhere around the Mason-Dixon line it invaded the airwaves, full of broken dreams, purloined pickups and exes i
n Texas. It was no wonder she was feeling just a slight bit teary-eyed. She’d really miss the multiple orgasms.

  The hours and miles flew by, and still Ethan slept. He snored, but very softly, and his face was so relaxed—with that little tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth—that she just kept driving. She tried to tell herself that she just didn’t want to listen to him bitch at her for a while, but she knew there was a part of her that just liked glancing over and watching him sleep.

  Until the time for lunch came and went and he showed no signs of stirring. A girl had to eat. Especially a girl who’d been up half the night tussling with Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud’s wild side. And if she didn’t get caffeine soon, she was going to have the mother of all meltdowns.

  As she passed an RV, she saw an exit coming up fast. Coffee. At the last second she rocketed the Taurus across traffic and it leaned hard onto the exit ramp. She’d missed the signs, but every place sold coffee, and most offered warmed-over pizza or microwaveable burritos. She’d top off the gas tank, too.

  All she needed was a gas station. The off-ramp ended at an unmarked junction and she shrugged. Every highway exit led somewhere, right?

  Eenie meenie minie mo. Jill turned right. She could taste the coffee already.

  Chapter Six

  Ethan knew something was wrong the second he opened his eyes. Jill’s hands strangled the steering wheel and she blasted him with a thousand-watt smile. The flash of white teeth didn’t blind him to the panic in her eyes.

  What the hell did she do now? The question ran through his mind, but he had a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.

  “Where are we?” he asked, returning his seat to the upright position, nearly clotheslining himself with his seat belt in the process.

  “I stopped for coffee and gas, but they didn’t have any food. I’m getting back on the highway now.”

  Ethan stared through the windshield at the narrow, winding road and dense trees. Not so much as a dotted yellow line marred the pristine backcountry look. “How long have you been getting back on the highway?”

  “Um…almost an hour.”

  “You got us lost.” He should have known better than to fall asleep and leave her unattended. The woman needed a do not operate heavy machinery sticker slapped on her forehead.

  Shaking his head, he reached down and picked up the unopened, lukewarm paper cup he assumed was meant for him. He ripped off the tab and gulped half the tepid liquid before he tasted the sugar. Shuddering, he made a mental note to tell her he liked his coffee light and unsweetened before the next caffeine stop.

  He unfolded the small map Jill had bought in the gift shop. With him navigating, they’d be back on the highway in no time. “Which exit did you take?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What did the sign say? It must have had a town name or route number listed.” Jill wouldn’t look at him, and the unpleasant sensation growing in his stomach wasn’t from the sugar. “What did it say, Jill?”

  “I didn’t actually see the sign,” she answered reluctantly, before the explanation spilled out of her in a rush. “I really wanted some coffee and I had to go to the bathroom, but I was passing one of those big RVs and at the last second I saw an exit and took it. I never saw the signs.”

  Ethan forced himself to remain calm, despite his growing certainty he’d be traveling from New Hampshire to Florida by way of Colorado. “How about the signs before that one?”

  “I didn’t read them.” She must have heard his muttered curse because she threw up both hands. “How hard is it to go from New Hampshire to Florida? You go to the ocean and take a right.”

  “Both hands on the wheel!” Ethan crumpled the useless map and tossed it into the backseat. “If it was that easy, we wouldn’t be lost. And you read the signs so you know where you are if you get off the highway. Why are you so nonchalant about this?”

  “Why are you so uptight about it?” she snapped back. “It’s just a detour, Ethan. We haven’t been zapped into the Twilight Zone.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he muttered.

  That had to be it, he thought. There was no other explanation for the chaos that had swamped him since Betty stuck her goodbye note to the fridge. All his careful planning had been flushed so fast he could still hear the giant sucking sound in his head.

  But even that paled in comparison to the havoc Jill was wreaking on his life. She damaged his car, stranded them, dressed him in this ridiculous T-shirt and got them lost. And she threw into the mix the most mind-blowing sex of his life.

  Ethan glanced over at her, trying not to notice the way her seat belt emphasized her breasts. She chewed at her lower lip. As he watched her teeth scrap over the rosy surface, just as his own had done merely hours before, parts of his anatomy that should have been exhausted throbbed.

  He swore under his breath and stared at the passing trees again. Was there any part of the woman that didn’t turn him on? He was acting like a fifteen-year-old! No, that wasn’t right. Even watching Candy Parker suck her eraser in algebra hadn’t made his toes curl the way simply breathing the same air as Jill did.

  But she didn’t figure into his plans for the future. Ethan had to see his mother settled into her new life, and then he had to find one for himself. Becoming infatuated with a gorgeous woman who wasn’t ready to settle down would only add up to a giant headache.

  Amazing sex did not a lasting relationship make. No doubt while he was busy trying to get all his ducks in a row, Jill would be tossing them up in the air yelling, “Fly! Be free”.

  This is just a fling, he reminded himself. A sizzling fling he didn’t want to end, but a fling, nonetheless. No doubt, Hurricane Jill would blow out of his life just as suddenly as she’d blown into it.

  “Did you piss off a Gypsy as a child or what?” he asked, desperate to break the silence before his thoughts could get him into any more trouble.

  Her giggle was high-pitched and nervous, as if she couldn’t decide whether or not he was teasing. “I am not cursed. I’ve screwed up a few things in my life, but believe it or not, my life wasn’t this bad until you came along. Maybe you’re the cursed one.”

  He guessed being divorced, bankrupt and AWOL from the senior center’s Spring Fling tour might count as cursed, but flaming matchsticks between his toes wouldn’t make him admit it. “What kind of screwups?”

  She shrugged. “My attempts at baby-sitting my sister’s kids usually end at the emergency room and, until I got the job at the library, I didn’t have a great employment record. And I left my fiancé at the altar.”

  She mumbled the last sentence, almost as an afterthought, but he didn’t miss a word. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Jill took her eyes off the road to give him a sharp look. “Avoiding the biggest mistake of my life—and his—does not make me irresponsible. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road.” Ethan choked down more of the too-sweet coffee. “Refusing when he first proposed would have been the responsible thing to do.”

  “I thought I wanted to marry him.”

  Why the thought of Jill marrying some faceless other man made him want to crumple his paper cup was a mystery. After all, if Jill was busy playing happy homemaker, he’d be well on his way to five days and four nights of fun in the Sunshine State.

  “What made you change your mind?” he asked, but what he really wanted to know was what the other guy had been missing.

  * * * * *

  Jill ignored the question. They were approaching an intersection and she strained to read a clump of signs nailed to a telephone pole. Ed’s Bait & Ammo was off to the right. To the left they could find used truck parts, free kittens and Loretta’s Luscious Locks.

  “Go straight for now,” Ethan told her. “But if I see a sign that reads Mayberry—12 miles, I’m driving.”

  She didn’t bother to argue. Since neither of them had any clue where they were, his guess was as good as hers. And this
way, if they ended up in the Texas panhandle, it would be his fault.

  She also got an extra few seconds to think about his question. Ethan had a poor enough opinion of her without hearing a detailed account of everything she’d ever done wrong.

  And her reasons for leaving Poor Eddy at the altar were none of his damn business. Even if they had been headed for a serious relationship—and he’d made it clear they weren’t—he didn’t have the right to pry into her romantic past. Such as it was.

  Cursed by a Gypsy, Jill fumed. She wished she knew how to give him the evil eye. That would teach him a thing or two about curses.

  “So why did you dump your fiancé at the altar?” Ethan asked again.

  “Because I’m foolish and irresponsible,” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he said, resting his hand on her thigh.

  The tingle that shot through her lower body surprised Jill. Not only because her body wasn’t sharing her mind’s currently very low opinion of the man, but also because she thought the tingle-prone parts of her body would be a bit numb after their workout.

  “I know I’ve been in a rotten mood,” he continued, “but being stranded, separated from my money and now lost does that to me. Not to mention my mother’s off keeping company with some guy named Kenny.”

  “Kenny?”

  “I don’t know—some guy on the bus. So, if we’re going to be stuck in this car driving around the backwoods of North Carolina—at least I think we’re in North Carolina since it’s almost dinnertime—we should get to know each other.”

  She knew he had a birthmark shaped like a toadstool on his ass. What else did a girl need to know?

  “Okay,” she said. “I like action movies and walks not in the rain. My favorite color is ‘79 Corvette red and my favorite food is macaroni and cheese.”

  “I meant…” He turned and frowned at her. “Your favorite food is macaroni and cheese?”

  Jill reached down and removed his hand from her thigh. “I suppose that’s irresponsible, too?”