Chapter 63
HAPPINESS ALWAYS HAS A PRICE
Oliver
This road trip has changed my life in ways I never could’ve seen coming.
Having Daphne along has been the gift I didn’t know I needed, and now, as I’m waiting for her to return from the shower facilities at the state park where we’re camping tonight near the mountains somewhere in North Central Colorado, I’ve firmly decided I’m changing my plans.
I won’t find a home in any town we travel through between now and the end of my two weeks. Absolutely positive.
There’s a frizzy-edged panic around my heart at the idea of where I want to go—it’s too close to my family—but I also know panic doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
It means this is complicated and I have some work to do.
But if this is what Daphne’s regular life is like—weekend camping trips to disconnect and soak in the world that she wants to save, days spent making a difference and seeing the family she’s made with her friend Bea, trying new things, diving into the unknown while having a safe place to go home to—how could I not want to be there with her?
Not because she has the life I want.
Lots of people have the life I want.
It’s that I want to experience it with her.
And only her.
I’m shaking my head as I lie on my back and stare up at the wide-open sky when she returns.
“My ears are cheeseless, and now I’m hungry,” she announces. “What’s with the face? I’m not looking where you’re looking again. Never let it be said I don’t occasionally learn from my mistakes.”
Smiling has never been this easy. “That shirt too warm?”
She’s in a long-sleeved white blouse that hides her tattoos and short jean shorts that show off her legs, and I suddenly wonder if we can order takeout to a campsite.
“No, you did good,” she tells me. “It’s nice and lightweight. You ready for dinner? I could eat as much as Simon’s boys usually do combined. And if you don’t know anything about thirteen-year-old boys, trust me when I say it’s a lot.”
I hold out a hand.
She grabs it and pulls me up, and I accidentally-on-purpose stop too close to her so I can sniff her shampoo and slip my arms around her waist and hug her tightly. “You smell amazing.”
“You feel amazing.”
Yeah.
I’m absolutely not letting her go. I don’t care how close she lives to Manhattan. I don’t care that my parents will be able to track me down and yell at me after the board meeting next week.
Daph’s worth it.
Her stomach growls loudly. “Take me to food.”
“Okay, okay. Food for you.”
She drives, grinning the whole way. “I found the best place,” she tells me as we pull into the parking lot of what looks like an Old West saloon in a strip mall in the middle of the nearest town. “They have a mechanical bull and karaoke.”
“Are you—of course you’re serious.” I knew about the karaoke.
I did not know about the mechanical bull.
She giggles. “Excited?”
“Hell, yes.”
I’ll strip her naked in the tent later.
For now—yeah.
This is epic.
It’s not quite seven, so the sun’s still out, but inside, you wouldn’t guess.
No windows. Wanted posters are intermixed with dollar bills stapled to the walls and ceiling.
The bar itself looks like it hasn’t been fully cleaned in several decades.
The floor longer. Our table wobbles more than the drunk guy at the end of the bar, and our server is in a cowboy hat.
“How did you find this place?” I ask Daphne over the sounds of someone singing karaoke so badly that I suddenly have far more faith in my ability to do the same.
“The magic of the internet.”
“If I searched fun place to go for dinner, my phone would’ve steered me to a chain restaurant.”
“We are definitely training your search results better. Now. What song are you singing first? And don’t tell me that Waverly Sweet one we were singing in the car earlier. I don’t want you to ever find out what the real lyrics are. I like yours better.”
I lean across the table and kiss her.
Can’t help myself.
Especially when kissing her earns me one of those broad, wide, uninhibited smiles that makes me feel like life truly can be simple.
Easy.
Experienced through the joy of the little things like the smile of the woman you love.
“Or we can try out the mechanical bull first,” she says.
I raise a brow. “That won’t…hurt things…will it?”
She leans closer to me and props her chin on her fist. “Oliver. Do you honestly think I’d put your wonder stick in danger?”
God, I love her.
I do.
She’s hilarious and fun and underneath it all, she has the kind of heart that’s willing to put her entire life on hold to help a guy she’s never liked.
“Maybe,” I tell her. “You could still be mad about the queso.”
She laughs at that.
We order buffalo burgers and fries—hers with a side of cheese dip—along with milkshakes—chocolate for me, cookies and cream for her—and while we’re waiting for our food, Daph gets us both onto the mechanical bull.
“Better before we’re stuffed,” she says as my name’s called.
My other name.
My Tom name. The name that she has to remind me is mine.
I make it four seconds, which has her rolling. But I’m happy to report there’s no damage to my wonder stick.
They call Maribella—her name for the evening—immediately after me, and she shows me up by making it seven whole seconds.
“Really thought you’d go for thirty,” I tell her as we make our way back to our table.
No one’s looking at us. Someone else is already up on the bull, and they might make it thirty seconds. Seem to have a good handle on what they’re doing in ways that Daph and I—or maybe just I—definitely don’t.
“I’m out of practice,” she replies with a grin.
“They have a mechanical bull somewhere back home?”
“No, but you know what? I’ll tell Bea that if she ever takes her burger bus into a physical location, she should totally add one.”
“Is Bea the type to add a mechanical bull?”
Daphne laughs. “Not unless I goad her. Simon would be on my side though. That’ll help.”
Our burgers and shakes arrive almost as soon as we’re seated again, and I’m not exaggerating when I say this is the best burger I’ve ever had in my life.
“Wait until you try Bea’s,” Daphne tells me.
Though she’s eating her burger like it’s the best burger she’s ever had in her life too.
I stare at her pointedly.
She rolls her eyes. “Dude. This is me being hungry. Bea’s burgers are better. Even though they’re not buffalo. They’re normal beef. Oh my god. That shake though. Have you tried yours? Wow. Wow, that’s good.”
Yeah.
This is what I want.
Dinners with Daphne every night.
It’s like there’s not a single thing in life that she’s not enthusiastic about, and I adore that about her.
We spend three hours at dinner, ordering extra milkshakes and fries while we take turns at karaoke, attempting to one-up each other with how bad we can be until Daphne finally admits I win.
And then she whispers that she’d like to go back to our tent and give me my first-place prize.
I can’t pay the bill fast enough, and since I’m operating with cash, that makes it pretty fucking fast.
We stumble out into the parking lot, drunk on nothing more than happiness and horniness, my arm looped around her neck, her hand tucked into my back pocket, my throat a tad sore from all of the karaoke, and it hits me.
I’m not paranoid anymore.
Not worried about not having security.
Not worried someone will recognize us.
Not even worried they’ll talk about the size of the tip I left on the table inside.
I’m free.
I’m completely, totally, undeniably free.
That’s exactly what I’m thinking when we reach the little SUV. I’ve put my hand on the passenger handle to unlock and open it for Daphne when I catch up to the fact that all is not, in fact, well.
There’s a man watching us.
And he’s not only watching us.
He’s waiting for us.
Leaning casually against the side of a Mercedes sedan two empty spaces over from us.
Arms folded.
Glaring at us in the light of the moon.
I’m caught between wanting to tell Daph to leave without me and the still-instinctive response of kowtowing to authority, and I don’t find my spine fast enough.
Because Daphne’s caught sight of who’s here.
But her whimpered gasp—yeah.
That does it.
That helps.
“Get in the car,” I murmur to her.
“Don’t even think of getting in that car,” her father replies. “The three of us need to have a talk.”