Chapter 8-Esme
The road trip?
It’s unexpectedly fun.
Like—really fun.
Which is probably a problem.
Because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be enjoying myself this much while riding across state lines with my estranged-not-ex-husband, a quiet, young cowboy in the backseat, and half a million dollars’ worth of frozen bull spunk humming behind us.
Life is weird.
But also?
Kind of amazing right now.
We stop for gas somewhere in Pennsylvania, and I hop out of the truck, stretching my arms over my head with a groan.
“Oh my God,” I sigh. “I forgot how good it feels to not be driving.”
Benji shuts the driver’s side door and comes around the front, his gaze flicking over me like he’s doing a full systems check.
“Stay close,” he says automatically.
I roll my eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.
Instead, he heads straight for the back of the truck, unlocking a panel and checking something on the cryogenic unit.
And I—well.
I follow.
Because I’m curious.
And because this?
This is cool as hell.
“Okay,” I say, leaning slightly to peek over his shoulder. “I need you to explain this to me like I’m five.”
He glances at me.
Then, back at the system.
“Temperature control. Backup power. GPS tracking. Tamper alerts,” he says, tapping a few things on the panel. “If anything goes wrong, I know immediately.”
I blink.
“That is, insanely impressive. Can I take some pics?”
He shrugs, but I can see it—that little flicker of pride he tries to hide.
“Micah built most of it,” he says. “I just make sure it works.”
“Uh-huh,” I reply. “And I just casually film content that pays my bills.”
That gets me a look.
A real one.
“Fair,” he mutters.
I grin.
God, this is nice.
Easy.
Familiar in a way that makes my chest ache a little.
I snap a few photos with my phone. Casually take one of Benji looking at something on the bottom of the truck.
Christ, he’s so damn hot.
Alex climbs out of the backseat then, pulling off his headphones.
“Uh—hey,” he says, giving me a shy smile.
“Hey,” I reply warmly. “What are you listening to?”
His whole face lights up.
“It’s this podcast about unsolved cyber crimes—like how people hide their digital footprint and stuff—”
“Oh my God, that sounds amazing,” I cut in. “Send it to me?”
“Yeah—yeah, I can—”
“Alex.”
Benji’s voice cuts through the moment like a knife.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just sharp.
Alex freezes.
“Yes, sir?”
“Pump the gas.”
“Uh, yep. I’m on it.”
He practically scrambles away.
I stare after him.
Then slowly turn back to Benji.
“Seriously?” I ask.
He doesn’t look at me.
“Kid needs to focus.”
“Kid?” I repeat. “He’s, what, twenty-five?”
“He’s green as grass, Ezzy. But old enough to do his job.”
I cross my arms.
“He was being nice.”
“He was staring.”
I blink.
Then laugh.
“Benji,” I say, incredulous. “That’s ridiculous. And you just said he’s a kid.”
His jaw tightens.
“Doesn’t matter.”
I stare at him for a second longer.
And then—something clicks.
Oh.
Oh no.
My heart does this weird little flip in my chest.
“Are you?” I start, then stop myself.
He looks at me then, eyes narrowing.
“Am I what?”
I bite my lip.
Trying not to smile.
“Nothing,” I say lightly, turning away before he can see too much.
But inside?
Yeah.
Inside, my pulse is doing a whole lot of things it probably shouldn’t be doing.
Because the idea that Benji—Benjamin Gunner—might be even a little bit jealous?
It’s dangerously appealing.
And incredibly stupid.
I shake my head, grabbing a drink from the gas station cooler once we head inside.
Do not go there, Esme.
Do. Not.
We get back on the road, and the hours roll by easy after that.
Music.
Silence.
Conversation that dips in and out of something real and something careful.
We stop for food somewhere in Ohio—greasy burgers and fries—and I catch Benji watching me more than once like he’s trying to memorize something.
Or maybe trying to figure me out.
Joke’s on him.
I don’t think I’ve even figured myself out yet.
By the time he pulls the truck into a parking lot, the sky’s gone dark, stretched wide and endless in that way only open land can manage.
It’s beautiful.
Quiet.
A little lonely.
I look around, not recognizing the small, roadside hotel.
It’s cheap. But the grounds are well kept which speaks well for the rooms.
It’s the kind of place with two floors and flickering neon, gravel crunching under the tires as Benji parks near the front.
I glance at the truck, then back at him.
“Will the truck be safe here?” I ask, suddenly aware of just how much is sitting in the back of it.
He nods once.
“It will.”
I raise a brow.
“You sound very sure about that.”
“Because Alex is sleeping in it.”
I blink.
“I’m sorry—what?”
“He’s got a pullout in the back seat,” Benji explains, already grabbing his keys. “He’s done it before. Security system’s live, and he’s got me on speed dial.”
I glance toward the backseat where Alex is already pulling his headphones back on like this is totally normal.
“Huh,” I say.
Honestly?
I believe him.
The truck is basically a fortress.
And after seeing the setup earlier?
Yeah, I’m not worried.
“But I need a shower,” Benji mutters, rolling his shoulders. “And a real mattress.”
I bite back a smile.
“You look like you haven’t slept in about three days.”
“Two,” he corrects.
“Yikes,” I murmur, but I know it’s true.
After all, I’ve been sleeping in his bed.
Noticeably alone.
We head inside, and the lobby smells faintly like coffee and cleaning supplies.
The woman at the desk gives us a polite smile.
Benji starts by asking for two rooms, adjoined if possible—which makes my pulse race, but I know it’s for security reasons.
“Sorry, only have one room left,” she says. “Double occupancy.”
I glance at Benji.
He glances at me.
There’s a beat.
A moment.
Where everything hangs.
And then—something clicks.
Like maybe it’s fate.
“Come on,” I say, shrugging like it’s nothing. “It’s no big deal. We’re adults.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I feel it.
A change in the atmosphere between us.
An awareness.
His gaze is on me.
Heavy.
Measuring.
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “That we are.”
And the way he says it?
Low.
Rough.
Like there’s a whole lot more behind those words than he’s letting on.
My pulse kicks up faster. Harder.
But I don’t take it back.
Because if I start backing down now—if I start pretending I don’t feel this thing between us—then what was the point of coming here at all?
I wanted to lay my old demons to rest.
To start living my life and aiming towards a future.
So maybe this is how I do that.
I lift my chin.
Meet his gaze.
And smile just a little.
“Good,” I say. “Then let’s get some sleep.”
Even if I have a feeling—sleep might be the last thing either of us gets tonight.