19. Red
19
RED
“Oh,” Mags says when we step inside the room she booked for us in Anchorage.
If we thought the exterior of the building was interesting, it’s got nothing on the motel room itself. There’s bright orange and green wallpaper and brown shaggy carpet. The blankets on the beds are another shade of brown with tassels at the ends, the nightstands are topped with kitschy lamps with an off-white base and finished off with fringed lamp shades. It’s a room straight out of a bad seventies movie.
“Is that vinyl ,” she says, her lips twitching. “Haven’t seen a sofa like that since I was probably conceived on one.”
I look over at the tan-colored vinyl couch in question. “I don’t think I can ever look at that piece of furniture the same again.”
“Hey. At least vinyl can be wiped down. It’s probably the cleanest place in the joint,” she replies.
At that and taking in the whole room, I burst out laughing which sets Mags off too. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s all it takes to make the weird vibe between us disappear.
I was worried for a while on the drive here after I stupidly put my foot in my mouth and called myself “her dork” not realizing how she might take it. After that, I figured it was safer to just not talk and ignore the giant Call-sized elephant between us.
Then I focused on things I could control and made my calls to the two potential buyers I was due to meet, bringing forward all of our meetings to today before stopping for a truck stop lunch. From there, it was off to Whittier then Kongiganak, bringing us back to now and the retro wonderland motel room.
Mags throws herself onto the bed, bouncing slightly on the squeaky springs. "This brings back memories of road trips with my folks. We were always stayin’ in quirky places like this.”
"Quirky is definitely one word to describe this place,” I reply with a warm smile.
I take a seat on the vinyl couch, which surprisingly doesn't swallow me whole like I half-expected it to. "You haven’t talked about your parents in a while.”
She sits up on the bed and leans back against the headboard.
“I don’t know why. It’s been a long time since they passed but they’re always with me in here,” she replies, holding her hand against her chest.
“They sound like fun.”
"They were. They loved findin’ offbeat motels and diners whenever we’d hit the road.”
A thought hits me. “Is that why you have the diner?” I look around the room again. “I mean, it’s nothin’ like this, but it’s definitely somethin’ special and memorable. Then again, maybe that’s just because it’s yours ,” I tell her, no longer overthinking what I’m saying and how it might be taken.
If the silence on the drive here achieved anything, it gave me time to clear my head and strengthen my resolve. Mags is going to be mine. If she hasn’t made the connection between how things have been between us on this trip and from reading Aster’s book, then maybe I’ll have to start making my feelings clearer.
Mags smiles and the sight warms me up. “Yeah. Whenever we’d go on our little adventures, it was never about luxury for them, but about the experience," she muses, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “When I opened the diner, I wanted to give a little of that back to my hometown.”
“You’ve definitely done that. Look how often we all come to eat there.”
Her mouth quirks up. “That’s cause y’all are addicted to my Corned Beef Hash.”
“And the company.” She opens her mouth to reply but slowly closes it again, a gratifying blush tinting her cheeks. “I wanted this trip to be about the experience too. Somethin’ new. Just the two of us havin’ fun and makin’ the most of our time away, you know.”
Her gaze softens. “It still could be. Hell, it already has been. I got to feed a moose, remember?”
A chuckle escapes me. “Yep. Can’t forget the look on your face when you thought it would swallow your hand.”
She shudders. “Did you see the size of those chompers?”
“Sure did. Why do you think I didn’t want to feed them?”
“Ah, I see how it is. Sacrifice the woman to save yourself,” she giggles.
"Damn, you’re onto me.” If only I could be sure you were. Then I could stop dancing around these damn feelings I have…
Mags looks around the room. “This place ain’t that bad. Besides, we’re hittin’ the town tonight remember.”
“Are we? You still haven’t told me where we’re goin’…”
“Not goin’ to either. You’re bein’ all secret squirrel about your surprise for me, so now it’s my turn.” She winks before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and rising to her feet. “We better get cleaned up. If we’re makin’ this a trip to remember and I’m goin’ to get you to step outside your comfort zone, then we actually have to leave the motel room to do it.”
I arch a brow, my eyes dancing with humor as I wait for what she said to sink in.
Mags starts spluttering. “I didn’t mean... oh, hell,” she giggles. “That sounded far better inside my head than out of it.”
"Mmm hmm," I reply. "Sure, darlin'. You keep tellin' yourself that."
I earn myself a half-hearted glare for that. “Just you wait, Red. I could still book us in for matchin’ duck tattoos. I’m sure someone would be able to draw Duck Norris’ likeness.”
I don’t even try to hide my look of horror, something Mags doesn’t miss if her laughter is anything to go by. “Can you imagine the look on everyone’s faces if we came back home with tattoos, let alone duck ones? They'd think we've gone mad and had a mid-life crisis or somethin’."
“Naw,” she says, waving me off. “They’ll just think you’re livin’ up to your new empty-nester status.”
“Like that’s ever goin’ to happen. Too many responsibilities back home to shirk off now,” I reply.
She crosses the room and stops next to the couch, reaching out to rest her hand on my shoulder, her touch making my pulse jump through the roof.
“We’re not on the ranch now, Red. Just like I’m not workin’ all day and night at the diner. This is our time, remember?” The intensity in her gaze has me thinking of things that are definitely not about home, the ranch, or anybody else except the woman standing in front of me. "But don't worry, Redmond. There ain't no way I'm goin’ to honor that damn duck's menacin' ways by puttin’ his picture on my body. Besides, it wouldn’t go with the tattoo I already have.”
She shoots me a wicked grin before pulling her hand away and making her way toward the bathroom. I turn and watch her go which does nothing to help the current state of my libido. Whatever that mountain spirit is doing to me, it left me unable to think about anything else but Mags. She’s the only thing that matters right now and I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to sleep in the same room as her and be able to relax, not when every cell, every nerve ending, every part of my body is pulling me to her.
“You ever goin’ to tell me where this tattoo of yours is?”
She stops in the doorway and looks back my way. “I think it’s more fun to keep you guessin’ Red. Now get ready, time’s a wastin’,” she says before closing the door behind her.
Now all I can think about is where it might be. But what I’m hopin’ is that it was her plan all along.