Making him all the more determined to prove them wrong.
“I’m sorry, Cruz.” She hesitated and snuck another look at him. “Did this play any part in that story you mentioned? Of not being in love since you were seventeen?”
He rested his head back on the headrest and sighed. “Something like that. It’s not anything to make a movie out of. I was just a stupid-ass kid who thought that the pretty girl I was dating was my one and only true love.” He snorted for added measure at that naiveté. “At least until the new hotshot rich kid pulled up in his shiny sports car. A car he gave her the full tour of the night of the spring formal a week later. Something that wouldn’t have been so bad had she not arrived with me.”
She grimaced. “Ouch.” She turned and looked him over. “Who was he? Brad Pitt?” she asked.
“Interestingly enough, it was your former fiancé.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re playing me.”
“Wish I was.”
“What happened? I mean, clearly he and this ex-girlfriend of yours didn’t ride off into the sunset together.”
“Not even close. Rumor was he was seeing some other girl not less than a week later. Someone reportedly linked to the Dutch royal family.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s actually correct. I remember her. She was horrible. But then again, so was Brad back then. I was about twelve, maybe thirteen, and I couldn’t understand what every girl was going on about. His head and ego were bigger than the Goodyear Blimp. He used to call Kate carrot-top—which she hated—and me her highness—which I really hated.”
“And yet you agreed to marry him.”
“Yeah, well. I won’t make that mistake again.” Her green eyes met his, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile, those dimples almost smacking him in the face.
The blaring of a horn brought both of their gazes back to the road.
Just as a yellow school bus headed straight for them.
Chapter Eight
Payton was already jerking the steering wheel to the right to avoid the bus that had careened across the lines of the two-way road and entered their lane when Cruz grabbed it and yanked it harder. She slammed on the brake and held her breath as time slowed down.
She waited for the sound of crashing metal and shattering glass. But the only noise was the screeching of brakes followed by a loud crack that came from somewhere under the car. Then the car was still, even if her heart was hammering away. The acrid smell of burning rubber was in the air and a glance in the rearview mirror showed a long smudge of tire tracks on the road’s surface.
Slowly she turned to Cruz, whose hands were still resting on the dash in front of him, as if he’d been bracing for the worst.
“What the hell were they thinking?” he said and turned to face her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Think so. But my heart may have stopped beating for a minute there.”
Someone was pounding outside on her window and she jumped. Her heart raced back up as she dreaded what she might find outside the car. Maybe some angry driver who was ready to ream her for her careless driving. Even if, at this point, she was pretty certain she hadn’t been at fault.
But the face of an older man, with white tufts of hair standing straight out above his ears, perspiration beading down the smooth top of his head, and wide blue eyes staring back at her on the other side of the glass, looked worried. Not angry. She exhaled in relief.
Cruz stepped out of the car and greeted the guy as she took some breaths to calm herself. From the rear view mirror she could see a whole busload—literally—of people climbing out into the street and heading in their direction. Steeling herself, she unbuckled her seatbelt and, on shaking legs, climbed out of the car.
“Are you two okay? I can’t believe how close that was,” the old man was saying. “This dog came out of nowhere and before I could think, I jerked the steering wheel to avoid it. Almost took you two out in the process.” The guy rubbed the balding circle at the top of his head.
A woman with short brown hair and a long floral skirt, somewhere possibly in her late fifties, came over and surrounded Payton with her arms and the sweet distinctive scent of Juicy Fruit chewing gum. “We’re just glad y’all weren’t hurt,” she said with a Texan twang. She pulled away and stared hard into Payton’s face, as if looking for some hidden injury. “Are you okay, hon?”
“I think so. Just a little shaken.”
“Appreciate your stopping though,” Cruz said and shook the man’s hand.
“Least I could do. Why don’t you turn the engine? Let’s make sure everything is running okay. Wouldn’t want to leave you two alone by the road here without knowing everything’s in tip-top shape,” the older driver said.
“Good point,” Cruz said and slid into the driver’s side.
“These narrow roads are downright chilling,” the woman said to Payton. “Why, since we left Puerto Vallarta earlier we’ve been scrunched between two semis as we rode through the mountain pass. And even then several cars came up and passed us, despite the traffic still coming from the other side. I’ve been biting my nails since we left.”
Cruz turned the key and a horrible grinding noise started. He tried again but with the same result.
A new fear gripped Payton. What was wrong with their car? It had to be okay. How were they going to get to the dinner tonight? Heck, forget the dinner, what about the wedding tomorrow?
It had to be okay.
Cruz and a couple of the men walked to the front of the car and lifted the hood, tinkering around inside. Fifteen minutes later, there were various diagnostics offered but the conclusion was the same.
The car wasn’t going anywhere.
Panic swept through her as she caught Cruz’s gaze. He seemed to be reassuring her with that dark, confident stare. He nodded. “We just need to get it into a shop. That’s all, Payton. I’ll call someone now.”
“We’re heading into the town of Tequila,” the bus driver said. “It’s only a few miles away. We’d be happy to give you two a ride.” Payton remembered spotting a sign just a few minutes back mentioning the town. “I’m sure you could find a garage there. We’re performing there tonight as part of a celebration one of the distilleries is hosting to kick off the introduction of a new line.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Cruz said and nodded to the group. Looking back to her, he said, “We’ll find a shop in town that can send someone out to get the car. I’ll also call the rental office and see if there are any other options. It’ll work out.”
She did feel better at his assurance. A hand wrapped around her arm. “Payton? That’s an intriguing name. Love it. I’m Bev. My husband, Lenny, you’ve met,” she said, pointing to the semi-balding driver with white tufts of hair. “We’ll make more introductions once we’re off the road. Why don’t you grab your things and we’ll get loaded back onto the bus.”
Infinitely grateful for the couple—even if they were the cause of their current condition—Payton smiled back. A space was cleared behind Bev’s seat near the front of the bus. Another woman introduced as Pat, joined Bev on the seat, and they turned fully around to stare at the newcomers. Cruz snagged the aisle seat, his bulk needing the space to sit comfortably, his arms folded in front of him.
“So where you two from?” Bev asked, looking back and forth between them. Stoic, serious Cruz was back, and Payton sensed he would leave the talking to her.
“We’re from Salt Lake. Ever been there?” Payton chirped.
“Actually, I have. My sister lives in Twin Falls, Idaho, and we’ve traveled through several times. Beautiful city. We’re from Waco, Texas. Been on the road for about a week now. Third year in a row we’ve toured Mexico. It’s beautiful and everyone is so darned friendly. How about yourselves? What brings you two here?”
“Cruz and I are on our way to Puerto Vallarta.” She paused, a crazy but intriguing notion entering her head.
She shouldn’t do it. She really shouldn’t.
But a little devil inside her screamed at her to run with it. Have some fun. It might make this detour a little more interesting. It would be a lie, but it seemed harmless. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see these people again after they reached Tequila.
And the bonus was seeing how Cruz would react.
“We’re getting married, isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turned to him, smiling as he slowly turned to stare at her like she’d sprouted snakes from her head. His arms remained folded across his chest, but she noticed his fingers tapping against one arm. Other than that, he remained silent.
She tilted her head to rest on his shoulder and fluttered her eyelids at him for a moment.
Then she saw the oddest thing.
He almost smiled.
Cruz could not believe the gall of the woman. Lying. Plain as day. And looking like the devil as she played to the crowd. But he knew her well. He knew that this game was targeted at him.
She was playing with him.
And Lord help him, it actually gave him the slightest thrill. There was a sense of familiarity returning to their usual roles of antagonists rather than their new friendly truce. But it was a little different. Almost…flirty.
“Last week we were at a hockey game—we just adore hockey,” she added, he was sure, for his benefit. “Well, right there in the middle of the game, Cruz turned to me and before I knew it, he was sliding down on one knee and holding a box in front of him. I almost fainted dead away, right then.”
The occupants on the bus were all riveted and he heard oohs and ahs escape from a few of the women as Payton warmed to her story. “And then, what do you know, he pointed to the big screen in the center of the whole place and there were the words flashing across the screen. ‘Payton, will you marry me.’ And the crowd almost collectively held their breath, waiting for my response. I just looked into Cruz’s eyes, so dark. Hypnotic. Filled with love,” she smiled back up at him, a mischievous sparkle in those green, glimmering eyes. “And I knew he was the only one for me. Well, of course I cried yes and he pulled me into one of those swoony lip locks that had the whole place going crazy.”
The women were beaming, looking like they might eat them both up, they were that adorable. He managed not to roll his eyes.
“That is the cutest story I ever heard,” Bev said, actually looking a little misty-eyed. “So why did you two decide to come down here?”
The questions weren’t even posed to him anymore, not that he’d know how to respond. It was her lie, not his.
Payton didn’t hesitate a beat. “Cruz has some family down here and we thought, why not make a trip of it? Surprise them. Then our flight almost crashed near Laredo and with spring break upon us, the only way we could get out to Mexico was by car. And Cruz was such a sweetie, assuring me that driving here, just the two of us, would be a wonderful adventure we could tell our kids about in the years to come. Believe me. It has been that. And this latest detour will certainly be something to remember.”
This time the gazes returned to him. He shrugged his shoulders, resigned to their new facade of soon to be newlyweds. Fortunately, no one minded his stoic silence and the next few minutes passed as the women regaled them with stories of their own nuptials.
Glancing around the bus, he was certain none of the occupants—save for him and Payton—were under age fifty. All of them seemed to be part of a couple. The men, like him, sat mostly silent as the women shared, looking like they’d heard the stories many times before.
A few minutes later, they reached the little town of Tequila, which wasn’t the quiet, peaceful town he’d been hoping for. Instead, it was teeming with tourists in jeans and shorts walking in the same direction they were headed. He prayed there was a garage still open and he could persevere in getting the car fixed that evening.
“It should be somewhere down this way, if I remember right,” Lenny said. Sure enough, a moment later, several stacked tires near the front of a garage told them they’d arrived. In the lingering late afternoon sunlight, the facade looked muted, almost vintage. And open, if the sign in the window was any indication.
Lenny parked the bus in front and turned around to address Cruz. “Why don’t you go see what they can do for you? With the festival, they might be closing shop early. We’ll stick around. Your fiancée’s welcome to wait here.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” he said to Payton, who nodded and waved him off as a couple of the older ladies continued to bend her ear, already enchanted with their new guest. Something he could relate to.
Ten minutes later, Cruz was back on the bus. Payton’s smile looked a little more strained. “He’s going to tow it now. He won’t know more until it’s back. But…” He took a seat next to her, watching her eyes widen in uncertainty. She wasn’t going to like this. “…By the time he gets it back here and can take a look, even assuming it is an easy fix, it’s going to be pushing sunset. And this next stretch of road? We’re going to want all the light we can get. It’s pretty dangerous.”
“You’re saying we’re not going to make it into Puerto Vallarta tonight, aren’t you?” Her voice was remarkably calm, but he could see by the way her hands squeezed tight together she was stressed.
“Yeah. I’m afraid so. Which means, we’re going to need to find somewhere to stay for the night.” He chose not to add that the prospects weren’t very promising based on their timing in the middle of the festivities.
“I think we have just the place for you, if you’re interested,” Lenny said after conferring with his wife for a minute. “Glen and Mags had to bow out of the tour at the last minute on account of Mags breaking her hip. But their room is already paid for and there’s no sense in letting it go to waste. Especially since we’re likely the reason for your current predicament.”
Actually, Cruz would say there was no doubt they had caused it, but there was no reason to belabor the point. He looked to Payton, who was already tilting her head to him as if to say Why not?
“Please say you’ll accept,” Bev said, giving them a toothy grin. “We’d love to have you. And you can join us later on when we tour the distillery and have dinner down in their underground taverns. They’re spectacular, so romantic. We’ve had the reservation for months.”
“We’d love to,” Payton said, her eyes shining with excitement now. She turned to him. “Right, honey?”
“Besides, you can look at it as a little pre-marital celebration,” Bev threw in, likely hoping to clinch the deal. “You can be the guests of honor as we all drink to your upcoming wedding.”
Oh yeah. And then there was that.
It was close to an hour and a half before Cruz made it to the hotel, having gone out with the mechanic to get the car and to wait for his diagnosis. He had to give it to their new Texan friends; they had great taste in hotels. The bright and airy hotel felt authentic and unique and was definitely well tended. Even the hotel clerks were bright and friendly, though maybe a tad too excited to see him.
“Gracias,” Cruz told them and palmed the key they placed on the counter.
As if she was close to bursting, the young female clerk added with a sly smile, “We hope you and the lovely senorita enjoy your stay.”
He paused. He knew that Lenny had mentioned one hotel room, but he’d been almost certain that Payton would have found a way of using those feminine charms to secure an extra room. He decided to be certain. “So…is the senorita still in the room?”
“Si, senor. She only returned half an hour ago.”
Returned from where? He supposed he should just feel relieved she was back at the hotel, safe and sound, since who knew what kind of trouble that woman could get into alone.
But he felt anything but.
Probably because he was too stressed wondering how the hell he was going to share a room with Payton Vaughn and not do anything he’d regret.
Thanking the two again, he went down the hall in the direction they’d pointed and climbed the three flights of stairs.
How was he going to explain this one to Dick Eastman?
He slid the key in and turned the knob, deciding he should probably knock and give her a quick head’s up before just stepping in unannounced.
“Cruz? I’ll be out in a minute,” she called from the bathroom.
“All right,” he said and shut the door, taking in the room that was as unique and interesting as the hotel. Dark terra cotta tiles polished to a near shine covered the floor, only broken up by a couple of bright rugs. The bed—a queen—was covered with a dark red and white paisley cover. Paintings in vibrant colors interspersed with masks covered the walls, giving the whole thing an eclectic feeling. And from where he was standing, he could even see beyond the window and the door that led to a small balcony to the town square below them. Nice.
If only he could stop staring at that damn bed.
“I thought for sure that you’d have finagled us into two separate rooms somehow.” He dropped his laptop bag on a chair in the corner and pulled out the cord and computer, searching the room for somewhere to charge it.
“I tried. But after Bev made a big deal with the front desk about our predicament and pending nuptials, it didn’t seem like the right time to say we wanted separate rooms.” She paused and he heard some clatter. “Tell me about the car. Can they fix it?”
“Yeah.” He thought about the extra incentive he offered the guy to guarantee it would be ready to go bright and early. It had better be ready—and possibly have a new paint job and stereo for what it cost him. “We’ll be out of here by seven tomorrow morning, at the latest.”
He found the outlet and plugged in the laptop and then his cell phone. He took a seat, ready to scroll through his incoming email.
Her Accidental Husband Page 9