“I think so. The question is when.”
She blinks at him in a way that makes me feel tight and angry. She’s curious and cute, and she reminds me of a time when I believed I could do anything, conquer the world if I just got the right chance.
Clearly thoughts of a man who has been driving ten hours straight without a break. “I’m going to pull over and let you take the wheel soon.”
“He’s alive.” Scout looks at me and laughs. “Thought you had mind-melded with the car.”
“Like it mattered with you two talking nonstop.”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror again, and again, it’s like a sucker punch. She’s been doing that the whole drive—glancing at me every few minutes as if she’s afraid I’ll pull over and leave her on the side of the road again. I should have done it. I should do it now. She’s a grown woman, for Christ’s sake. As usual, I caved to my little brother, and now I don’t know what the hell we’re doing with her.
“I blame quarantine.” My brother laughs. “After three months of being alone, I’d gotten to where I was stalking the mailman for somebody to talk to.”
“Anything’s better than being stuck in the house, right?” She smiles, and that little nose wrinkles again.
“Three months alone is nothing,” I grumble.
They fall silent, and her eyes drift to mine again. I’m sorry I said anything. We pass a green sign for Joshua Tree National Park, and it informs us the next gas stop is in 47 miles. I glance at the tank. We’re good, but I’m exhausted.
Smooth brown boulders rise in prehistoric shapes in the distance, and the spiky shrubs and desert palms rise above the parched earth.
“To think most people just fly over this.” Hope looks out the window. “It’s gorgeous.”
“I read it gets as hot as 120 degrees some days.” Scout reaches down and pulls out a bottle of water.
“Give me some of that.” He hands it over, and Hope puts her hand on the back of the seat, resting her chin on top.
I’m acutely aware of her proximity to my shoulder. Her head tilts to the side, and she looks at my brother. “I like your name. Scout. Where does it come from?”
“Our mom was a librarian.” He offers her a water, but she shakes her head. “She named us after her favorite books and authors.”
“Scout… from To Kill A Mockingbird?” Her head lifts.
“Yep. Bradley after Boo Radley, and Scout. Bradley Scout Dunne.”
“That’s fun!” She glances at me carefully. “And John…”
“John Steinbeck and Phillip Roth,” Scout answers for me.
“John Roth. JR.” This time when my eyes met hers, she smiles shyly.
Jesus. It’s worse than her fearful looks. Her shy smile is a hit below the belt. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I look out the window. No chance of leaving her in the middle of the Mojave Desert.
“I like your name.” I can’t tell if Scout is flirting or just being his usual friendly self—not that there’s a difference. “Hope… It suits you. Is that all there is?”
Her laugh is embarrassed, and she shakes her head. “Hope Eternal Hill.”
“Hope Eternal?” My brother’s voice goes loud, and I fight a grin. It does suit her. “Let me guess. Old-school California hippies.”
She nods, pressing her lips together as her cheeks flush pinker. “We lived in a commune with five other families. We raised all our own food, made our own clothes. We all home-schooled together…”
“Damn.” Scout looks at me. “You lived your whole life like that? But what about this car?”
“I didn’t live my whole life like that. My dad’s family had money. I guess that’s why he had the luxury of walking away. My mom’s family did not have money, so she wasn’t as excited about living like a pauper. She did it for ten years, then she walked away from us.”
An unexpected edge enters her voice, and my eyes cut to hers in the mirror. All the fear and shyness have disappeared.
“I’m sorry.” Scout is quiet.
“Not your fault.” She forces a smile, but their conversation stalls.
We’re just crossing the Colorado River, and I notice a gas station off the interstate.
Checking the mirror, I see Hope gazing out at the desert. Her smile is gone, and I recognize the emotion in her eyes—betrayal, anger, unresolved hurt. She tipped her hand a bit, and it’s possible we have more in common than I thought.
“Your turn to drive.” I point at my brother as I pull the Impala to a gas pump. Looking at Hope, I nod at her feet. “You need shoes.”
“If they just have a cheap pair of flip flops—” She looks around the backseat then appears flustered.
I frown. “What?”
“I-I don’t have my wallet… I don’t have any money.”
Or a driver’s license, I mentally note. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll spot you five bucks for a pair of flip flops.”
“I’ll pay you back!” It’s a little chirp I wave away.
“What size?”
“Medium… Seven if it matters.”
I grab a paper mask at the door and slip it over my face. The gas station is crammed with western-themed gifts and souvenirs, and I push through the aisles of fake succulents, beer holders, t-shirts reading Chuckwalla Valley Raceway, and Arizona sweatshirts searching for shoes… Seriously, who needs a sweatshirt in Arizona?
Flip flops are not on the menu, but I do find a stash of discount cowboy boots I kind of like. Digging through the pile, I grab the only women’s Size 7, and pay the man from my cash.
Scout is in the restroom when I walk back to the car, carrying the drinks and boots. I slip the mask in my pocket, and Hope’s eyes widen as she looks up at what I’m holding.
“What the… You got me cowboy boots?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
She pulls the white ankle boots out of the bag, and her voice goes high. “They’re so cute!”
Slipping them on her bare feet, she steps out of the car. They stop just below her calves, and they actually go with what she’s wearing.
I feel an unwelcome surge of pride, and my dick reminds me it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve been near an attractive woman, or any woman for that matter.
Her eyes shine, and she turns side to side. “I can’t keep these… I can’t afford to pay you back.”
“They were twenty bucks. The guy had them shoved in a corner marked clearance.”
Her pink lips part, and she looks up at me. “You’re kidding?”
“He said you’re the first person needing anything but gas in four months.”
“Well, I’ll be.” She turns side to side then smiles at me. “Thank you. I really will pay you back as soon as I get my wallet—”
“Don’t worry about it. I can spot you a pair of shoes.”
She wrinkles her nose like she does. “In case you decide to leave me on the side of the road again?”
I can’t tell if she’s flirting with me or if she’s fishing for reassurance. Either way, I’m not getting mixed up with my brother’s charity case—or whatever she is. I’ve got one reason for this trip, and it isn’t romance.