10. Bodhi
10
BODHI
“H ey, Bodhi!” Ella says brightly on Thursday morning, her smile almost blinding as she throws her bag into the back seat of Sorren’s truck. “I brought snacks.” She winks and damn if I don’t feel that everywhere .
The week had gone by in a blur, all the fun I’d had with my nieces over the weekend replaced with the familiar pang of anxiety as my boots scrape over the dirt.
“You know where you’re going, right?” Sorren says pointedly to her and she huffs.
“Yes.”
“You should miss the storm rolling in but again…”
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t crash your truck. My cousins in Trappers Ridge used to take me out to drive in the snow when we went there over winter breaks growing up. We’ll be fine.”
Like a couple inches of snow or actual have to dig yourself out of a snowbank snow?
Also, why is she driving?
I lived in New Hampshire my whole life.
I’d asked Sorren as much but he’d brushed me off with a sigh, saying it’s just easier if we let her.
We.
As if he’s taking this little trip with us.
“Rhea packed you guys snacks and lunch and,”—he peeks in the bag—“something wrapped that I can’t see.”
“Ooo, I hope it’s those new chocolate raspberry croissants she’s been experimenting with. They’re so good.” She does a little dance, and it takes everything in me not to let my eyes trail down her body as she shimmies in the lot.
“And Mama Thayer packed extra when she found out you were goin’ on this little adventure,” Sorren adds pointedly, his gaze locked on me, his lips ticking up on one side.
“Great,” I manage even as my heart warms a little. Flora Thayer, Sorren’s mother-in-law, welcomed Mason and me with open arms the minute we landed here—never once discouraged that it took me longer to warm up to, well, everyone .
She’s just treated me like family, right from the start.
“Please do not crash my truck,” Sorren pleads, his words now directed at Ella as he throws her the keys before sending me an apologetic look. “Good luck.”
“Hey! I am an excellent driver. I just get car sick in the passenger seat if I have to read directions or something.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my mantra for the foreseeable future even though my blood pressure is rising just thinking about this arrangement.
Not unlike my dick.
Fuck, I’m not gonna make it.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Ella says, slipping into the cab as I do the same, setting my phone in the cupholder and clutching my coffee cup in my hands.
She waves at Sorren, and I ignore the way he can’t quite keep a straight face as he watches us leave.
Bastard.
I swallow my sigh because Ella is an innocent party in all this. The anxiety fucking ping-ponging around the truck is all mine.
“What kind of music do you like?” she asks, glancing from me to the road, her eyes a mix of amber and brown with flecks of gold.
They’re beautiful.
Just like her.
“Whatever you like is fine.”
“Bodhi, look,” she says slowly, “we are going to be together a lot, and I don’t want to spend it with me talkin’ at you and you being pissed I’m doing it.”
“That’s not it.” I press my lips together and try to slow my racing heart. “I’m just quiet. You can talk or not talk.” Glancing at her, I add, “I don’t mind.”
She blushes, her cheeks heating, and I have to believe it’s more because we’re in this situation than because of me.
Ella’s gaze slides to me again. “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?”
“Work for what?” I ask even though I have a pretty good idea.
“Getting to know each other,” she says brightly. “We could have done this before, but you gave me one-word answers, and now I have your undivided attention. Plus we have the time; I promise it’s gonna be fun!”
* * *
Four hours.
Four hours we’ve been on the road, with the smell of her perfume invading my senses and driving me half out of my mind. It’s sweet and seductive and I have had to count back from one hundred more than once.
And that’s not even counting the fact that, despite her initial claim, she has not stopped talking. Story after story has her practically bouncing in the driver’s seat, her energy and enthusiasm for absolutely everything unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with.
Holland’s unending questions included.
“…and my first car was this beat-up little Mazda truck—stick shift of course—with a Descending North CD stuck in the CD player. I’d never heard them before, but I didn’t care, you know? I worked and bought that truck outright so it was like a happy little bonus. I saw them play in Nashville one time. Garrett North is sexy on stage.”
She fans her face and my hand crunches around the water bottle that replaced my empty coffee cup.
If she hears me, she doesn’t mention it, her babbling continuing despite her focus on the road. The sky is dark and ominous and the rain has started to fall. The storm is no longer a threat; it’s upon us.
“Mason and I saw them play at an outdoor show one time,” I say, surprising us both. Ella jerks the wheel a tiny bit as she looks at me, obviously startled as my heart drops into my stomach at the sudden movement.
“Stop grabbing the oh shit bar, ” she growls. The fact that my knuckles are white, wrapped around the handle above my door, is something I didn’t even notice until she mentioned it.
“Sorry.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“That thing is for emergencies only and you, sir, did not have an emergency.”
“You jerked the wheel.”
“Barely! And it’s because you spoke for the first time since we left and it’s killing me,” she says, turning the radio off and cutting the words to “Tastes Like You” by Brett Young with an abruptness that has me letting out a heavy exhale.
“I’m sorry.”
“I swear to God if?—”
“Just…” I drag my hand down my face and try again. For real this time. “You said it was fine.”
“Because I thought it would make you more comfortable, but seriously, Bodhi, I didn’t think you’d be silent the entire time.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say that?”
“Would it have changed anything?”
“It might have,” I try, and she glares at me for the briefest second before returning her eyes to the road.
Probably not.
“You’re up.”
“I have dogs.”
“Great,” she huffs, “tell me about them. But don’t show me pictures until we stop because I can’t handle you thinking we’re gonna crash again.” I must not hide my reaction to her words fast enough because she lets out a little growl before clearing her throat. “Sorry… sorry. I’m a little amped up. I was nervous to come on this trip with you because, I mean—look at you. You’re freaking hot and I’m not ashamed to admit I had a little bit of a crush and I talk when I’m nervous and here we are.”
She thinks I’m hot?
And is it had as in past or has like right now?
That’s probably not the part of her rambling I should be focused on, but I can’t help the way my body reacts to it.
“So, uh, my brother Mason and I did that first adoptathon thing around Christmas that was held at Vetted Paws. We took home Moose who is a Rottweiler and Birdie, a golden retriever.”
“That sounds nice. How was the event? I didn’t go to that one because I was visiting family.”
“They had a really good turnout and I tried to see how many dogs I could get Montana and Archer to take home.”
“How’d you do that?” she asks, settling into her seat.
I smirk, remembering how they ragged on me for all the women trying to give me their number. “I kept sending their girls pictures of the dogs I thought were a good fit.”
Ella snorts, her smile amused. “So what was the final count?”
“Archer only wanted one, but they went home with a bonded pair and Ellison and Montana took home three. Montana also gets all the obscure rescue farm animals so he loves that too.”
“Sounds like you’re more fun than you think you are.”
So it would seem…