Chapter 25Eden
25
Eden
E den plopped a straw cowgirl hat, a couple of beef jerky sticks, some bottled water, a pouch of pickles, and a mix of sour candies on the gas station counter. And for some weird reason, she threw a box of condoms in there too. She couldn’t even explain why—did she actually think something might happen with Ronan? She had to admit, the selection was deranged, and by the look on the cashier's face, raising his bushy eyebrows at her haul, he definitely thought so too.
"Don't look at me like that! The pickle and the condoms are unrelated,” she muttered, swiping her credit card into the card reader. She watched as the cashier took his sweet time bagging each item with a smile on his face, highly entertained at her embarrassment.
She saw Ronan approaching the store door through the glass windows of the convenience store. She grabbed the box of condoms and shoved them quickly into her bag, her cheeks burning with humiliation. The cashier let out a raspy chuckle. Her eyes honed in on a name tag with the name Beau.
"Beau, don't say a word. This is privileged information,” she whispered hurriedly.
"Hey," Ronan said with a grin as he leaned on the counter, reaching for the straw cowgirl hat and placing it on Eden's head.
"Yeehaw," Eden spoke half-heartedly, her cheeks burning and eyes downcast. She was still having difficulty making eye contact after the motorcycle incident. She felt like one of America's most wanted criminals. And now that she just bought condoms , she felt one hundred times more guilty. She was feeling squirrelly about her brazenness, on the verge of nervous twitching if Ronan so much as glanced at her in the wrong way. She didn't know what got her into her.
Okay, that was a lie. It was the smoking hot journalist who had played a role in igniting this boldness, planting a metaphorical bee in her hypothetical bonnet.
"Watch out for this gal. She's a hoot and a half,” the cashier quipped, his thick southern accent drawing out the words as he wiggled his overgrown eyebrows at Ronan. Eden rolled her eyes at him and grabbed the bag of snacks.
"Come on, let's get out of here, Ro!" She grabbed his hand before Beau could continue. "Bye, Beau! It's been a real pleasure!" She saluted her new confidante.
"Enjoy your roll in the hay!" He shouted back. Her eyes widened in shock as she beelined for the door and pushed it with more force than necessary with the palms of her hands. Ronan's arm pushed the top of the door behind her.
Roll in the hay? He did not just say that; she refused to believe it. Ronan started roaring with laughter once they were in the afternoon sun, cars whizzing by on the highway.
"So, why did that cashier tell you to enjoy some intercourse?" Ronan asked, still laughing slightly. Eden ignored the question and dug into the brown paper bag of snacks. She handed him a bottle of water, the beef jerky, and the sour candy.
"I got you some essentials. I know you like sour candy, so I got you a pack," she rumbled, attempting to change the subject.
"Okay, keep your secrets," he responded with a smile that could melt glaciers, a dimple forming on his cheek. "Thank you for the candy. I can't believe you noticed that I ate sour candy," he said as he accepted the pouch, his gaze softening as he looked at her.
"No biggie, anything for my favorite coworker," Eden replied before thinking, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed inwardly. His expression seemed to falter momentarily as if her comment had suddenly made the entire universe aware of their strictly platonic relationship.
"Yeah, coworkers," he muttered and took a swig of the water bottle. He started packing the food and water into his backpack. Shit, she had messed up.
Eden scrambled for something to say, trying to recover from what she'd just blurted out. She could tell him she liked him, but what would that even mean? Did she want to date him? Sleep with him? Both? Preferably both, in either order. She wasn't greedy.
Reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Once this documentary was over, Ronan would return to his overseas assignments, and Eden would continue her relentless touring after her new album was released. It wasn't like they had a future together. Their lives were on different trajectories. She shoved down the disappointment that was creeping up inside. Whatever this was, it was transient, an impermanent situation in the vast expanse of their separate lives.
"Let's hit the road, cowgirl," he said, flicking the rim of her cowgirl hat. She nodded, her eyes fixed on him as he smoothly mounted the motorcycle. His long, muscled leg swung over the leather seat, and she watched, entranced, as he settled into his spot and pulled his helmet securely over his head. Every move he made was graceful, and she couldn't help but admire him.
Taking that as her signal, she positioned herself behind him. She felt the softness of his t-shirt underneath her fingers, balling the fabric in her hands and resting them on his solid torso.
The motorcycle came to life with a powerful hum, and she gently tapped his chest to signal that she was ready to go. For a brief moment, he held her hand against his hard chest. The touch made her heart skip a beat, and butterflies swarmed her stomach. She squeezed him a fraction tighter, feeling a contented sigh escape her lips. Then, all too soon, his hand released hers, and they were gliding onto the highway, leaving her with a lingering warmth she couldn't shake.
She looked up and noticed ominous dark clouds looming in the sky. The encroaching darkness had grown so intense that it cast shadows from the Joshua trees over the sand.
It was still late afternoon, not late enough for that kind of darkness. The scent of dusty earth and the pavement was tinged with the promise of rain. The clouds appeared to be darkening, and a slight, humid breeze licked her skin.
She felt a sudden drop of rain on her bare thigh, the drip spattering on her skin. Then, a steady pitter-patter as the first rain droplets began to fall. They landed softly on her bare shoulders and legs, and she grinned at the sky, reveling in the cool drops on her skin. She released Ronan's waist and spread her arms widely.
Tilting her head towards the sky, she let the rain pelt her face and opened her arms. Ronan tapped her wet leg in warning, and the stampede string of her cowgirl hat hung to the front of her neck. Her cowgirl hat fell off her head and dangled behind her back. The pouring rain started to soak her hair and completely saturated her clothes. She put her arms around his waist again, her fingers feeling the drenched fabric of his shirt to his firm torso, her shirt sticking to the back of his jacket.
On the right side of the road, a red vacancy light flashed through the curtain of rain, and Ronan pulled his bike into the motel parking lot. As they approached the parking lot entrance, she saw a sign with the words "Clown Paradise Motel" with a genuinely blood-curdling cartoon clown. Did Pennywise own this place?
Ronan brought the bike to a slow crawl and then turned off the engine. Eden hopped off the bike and grabbed Ronan's backpack. Ronan pulled up the visor of his helmet, revealing his narrowed eyes.
"That was dangerous, Eden. You can't let go of my waist. Especially in the rain, it's not safe." His tone was concerned as the rain hit the top of Ronan's helmet, and the thrum of rain made a rhythmic beat over the plastic material. "Also, where is your helmet?"
Eden tried to look up at him, but the rain was battering her eyes, so she pulled the cowgirl hat on her head to block the rain. She squinted her eyes at him, and Ronan pulled his helmet off. She watched as the rain instantly soaked his hair. Frustration etched across his face as he used his free hand to push the dark brown wet strands back off his forehead. The movement exposed his lowered eyebrows and the smooth expanse of his forehead, and it was devastating for her to look at. He was so stunning that she was enraptured by his face, momentarily forgetting that he had asked her a question. He stared at her expectantly.
"Oh," she paused and swallowed quickly. "I forgot to put it back on. I'm sorry," Eden mumbled softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. She turned her eyes to the hot pink helmet hanging off the back of the bike, where she had clipped the chin strap over one of the attached cases.
Ronan shook his head, lightly linked his arm with hers, and walked toward the motel office. As they got closer, she noticed the colorful polka dots painted on the outside of the motel and a collage of oversized, garishly painted clown faces on the exterior of the building.
A shiver ran through her body as the clown's eyes seemed to follow her movements. Ronan pulled open the door, and a bell jingled. Walking into the lobby, they noticed a dizzying amount of clown memorabilia. She spun in a circle and looked at the glass cases housing an assortment of clown porcelain dolls, vintage clown costumes, and rows of painted faces frozen in perpetual amusement. Every inch of the room was covered in something clown-related.
"Judas Priest," she whispered in horrified pleasure. She unzipped Ronan's backpack and grabbed his camera to capture the terrifying collection, zooming in on one particularly horrid clown with bright red hair and scary black eyes. She panned the camera around the room and saw Ronan talking to the woman at the front desk. She walked over to the window and focused the camera on the rain hammering the desert sand. It was veiled in a hazy mist, and dark clouds crowded the sky. A warm hand touched her chilled shoulder, and she jumped slightly at the unexpected touch.
"Just me," a smooth voice whispered behind her. "They only have one room available. I hope that is okay." Famous last words…one bed, one hot hot man. She hoped the motel had housekeeping because she would most likely spontaneously combust. They would have to scrape her remains off all the clown decor. What a headache.