Chapter 6 #2
“And I’ll work for free,” I add. “Just to sweeten the deal. C’mon, Wheeler. You can’t say no to that.”
She closes her eyes and throws up her hands. “Fine! Fine, you can come. But I really do have to work on this trip. I don’t mind you partying—”
“I’m not interested in partying.”
“You say that now. You’ve never been to Aspen.”
“And you’ve never had me as an assistant.
Here, how about I get your number?” I dig my phone out of my pocket, giddy that I finally have an excuse to have her contact info in my phone.
“I’ll start doing some research and send you a route and itinerary.
Any snack preferences I should know about?
Twizzlers are my favorite road trip food.
And are you a podcast kinda girl, or do you prefer to listen to music? ”
Her eyes are bright as they bounce between mine. “Since when are you an overachiever?”
“Since forever. Number, please.”
____
We hit the road at four a.m. two days later, on a Thursday.
Patsy, God bless her, pours us each an enormous thermos of coffee and hands us a paper bag on our way out. When I open it, I find that it’s filled with foil-wrapped breakfast burritos and homemade crackers with pimento cheese.
“Y’all be safe.” Patsy pulls me in for a tight hug before whispering, “And have fun. You deserve it, Duke. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Patsy, as our adopted mother figure, knows as well as anyone in our family that I dream of living life on my own terms.
I think about her words as I drive the rattling U-Haul through the gray light of dawn. The pavement, the flat, sprawling land, the clear sky—it’s all different shades of the same color this time of day. Pretty in a weird, moonlike way.
I feel like I should know what I’m looking for, but I don’t, other than a change of scenery and maybe a gigantic neon sign pointing me toward the path I’m meant to be on.
I wouldn’t say I feel lost. More like stuck. Bored. The restlessness that’s plagued me for as long as I can remember is only getting worse.
Is this just what happens when you’re twenty-seven?
The quarter-life crisis people talk about?
No one I know seems discontent with their lot in life.
Doesn’t help that three of my brothers have paired off in quick succession over the past six months.
Not only have they found their purpose, they’ve also found their people.
I’m happy for them. Truly. But I also wonder why I haven’t found my purpose yet or my soulmate. Makes me wonder if I just expect too much. If the freedom I’m seeking just doesn’t exist.
All I know is life today sucks a lot less than it did yesterday: I’m heading to Colorado on a Thursday with a pretty girl and a truck full of pretty boots. Not a cow or so much as a whiff of manure for miles.
The highway is empty. The endless space before us opens up a similar space inside my chest, giving me more room to breathe. Feels nice.
Also feels nice to drink coffee in contented silence beside Wheeler. She’s bundled up in a pair of sweats and a jacket, her hair in a knot at the top of her head. No makeup, at least not that I can tell.
She sips her coffee and hums. “Patsy makes the best everything I’ve ever had. I might actually cry over how good this coffee is.”
“In your feelings, huh?” I can’t help but grin at the inside joke. Really, at the fact that Wheeler and I have an inside joke despite how little we see each other these days.
“Good food makes life worth living.”
“Hard agree.”
“Y’all seem close.” Wheeler eyes me. “Your family and the Powells. Well, your family and really everyone else who works on the ranch.”
I nod, sipping my coffee. “Yep. Patsy and John B kind of took us under their wing after our parents died. Garrett Luck too. Not sure what we would’ve done without all those helping hands.”
“That’s so nice.” Wheeler turns her head to look out the window. “I know you said you couldn’t wait to get out of Hartsville, which I understand. But it’s not like that in most places.”
“What do you mean?”
“That people are willing to help out like that. Also, that you love your family and like them too.” She lets out a long, low breath. “Mollie adores that about y’all. She feels so lucky to be a part of your family.”
“We love her. Dearly. She’s been so good for Cash and for the ranch.”
“Cash has been so good for her. You all have. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
I glance at Wheeler, who is still turned away from me. There’s a wistfulness in her words. She’s definitely going through some shit, and that shit’s definitely making her unhappy.
Something to do with her family, maybe?
I shift my grip on the wheel, glancing in the side mirror. A thin, pink line has appeared on the horizon. It burns to red just as I look away. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning.
“Hey, Wheeler?” I drop my thermos into a cupholder. “Check the weather for me if you don’t mind.”
She straightens, grabbing her phone from the purse at her feet. “I did last night before I went to bed.”
“I did too.”
“Said the worst of the storm is supposed to miss Aspen. The snow won’t start until early tomorrow morning, so we’ll be fine.”
“Check again, please.”
Wheeler rolls her eyes, but her thumbs still move over her screen. “Such a Boy Scout.”
“You wanna sell these boots? We gotta make sure we can get to the store. Weather up in those mountains is a lot more unpredictable than we’re used to.”
“Whatever you say.” She scrolls for a beat. Then her thumbs go still. “Hm.”
“What?”
“It appears the forecast has changed just the tiniest bit.”
I groan. “Lemme guess. They’re calling for a direct hit?”
“I mean, there’s a blizzard warning in effect in Aspen from eight o’clock tonight until—”
“Shit.” I hit the gas. The truck shudders, its engine roaring in protest. “I’m glad we got on the road early. I hope you don’t need bathroom breaks, because we ain’t got time for ’em.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Think you can pee in a soda bottle?”
She reaches across the dash to give me one of her playful shoves. “I can, but you don’t want me to because I’d be very, very tempted to dump it over your head.”
I love getting her riled up. She’s cute when she can’t help herself.
“Desperate times.” I reach for my coffee. “Mind grabbing me one of those burritos?”
Wheeler crosses her arms. “Grab it yourself.”
“You really have a lot of faith in me keeping this thing on the road with just one hand.”
“Bet you have lots of practice doing things with just that hand. Don’t tell me you haven’t built up those forearm muscles.”
Laughter, real and unexpected, bursts through me. “I have. From playing darts.”
“I’m sure that’s what you play with.” Her lips twitch as she reaches for the bag behind her seat.
Fuck, she’s quick. And dirty. I like that.
I haven’t stopped thinking about the amazing chemistry Wheeler and I had that night at the Rattler.
Which of course has me thinking about whether we’ll hook up on this trip.
I’m down to have some fun between the sheets, obviously.
I haven’t had interest in sleeping with anyone else since I met Wheeler, so of course I’d love the chance to get naked.
We’re staying at a cabin in Aspen that belongs to a family friend of hers, which they graciously offered to let her use since they’re out of town. She and I will be seeing a lot of each other.
A lot.
But the potential for hooking up with Wheeler is not why I wanted to come on this trip. Sure, getting her naked would be an excellent bonus. But I’d take just being around her—getting to know more about her and her business.
Let’s be real, though. She’s made it pretty clear she wants to keep things friendly between us. I still haven’t figured out what happened the night we met, but I’m relatively certain she hasn’t changed her mind about friend zoning me. Which sucks.
Then again, who knows what will happen on this trip? Maybe a change of scenery will change her mind about me. Maybe it doesn’t.
Either way, I got out of Hartsville, and I get to learn new things about a new girl in a new place.
I’ll take it.
Just like I take the burrito that Wheeler holds out to me. I smile when I see that she’s rolled back the foil and everything. She’s even got a paper napkin in her other hand.
“Thank you kindly.”
“You’re welcome.” Sipping her coffee, she glances at me. “Thanks for coming, Duke. I mean that.”
“If we don’t die driving up Aspen Mountain in this blizzard, I think we’ll have ourselves a nice little trip, don’t you?”
“Shut up. We’ll be fine.” She rolls her eyes, but her lips are pulled into a smile as she looks at the hand I have on the wheel. “See? That hand seems to be doing great on its own. You practice that one-handed stuff a lot, huh?”
“Darts? Not as much as I’d like. But I’m a natural talent, so…”
“Don’t make me shove that burrito in your face.”
“Remember, the whole idea here is staying alive, which means staying on the road. Which means no burritos being shoved in faces.”
She glances at the clump of pico de gallo that drops into my lap. “You’re a messy eater.”
“I prefer ‘enthusiastic,’” I reply around a mouthful of burrito.
“Guys usually overestimate themselves in that respect.”
I’m laughing again. “You ever know me to go halfway on anything?”
Her eyes glimmer. “We didn’t ever find out who was better at darts, did we?”
Fuck me, this girl’s got my mind in the gutter. She’s not talking about darts, and neither am I when I say, “We’re not dead yet. We got time.”
She doesn’t respond to that. But she’s still smiling when she brings her thermos to her lips.