Oh no.
I’m now holding my stomach with both hands to keep from laughing. Please don’t make me pee on myself, Weed, California. It doesn’t help that Marjorie turns to see what I’m quietly snickering at. After reading, she cackles heartily.
“Well, how about that?”
Out of all the times to not have a working camera phone. Hell. My friends won’t believe me if I ever tell them about this place.
The sound of the CB radio going off in the truck startles the both of us. Marjorie leaves the pump running inside the tank and climbs back into the truck to respond to the call. She proceeds to have a back and forth dialog with her dispatch. I have no clue what they’re talking about. There’s a lot of trucker jargon being tossed around.
As I head toward the building to use the restroom, a delicious smell invades my nostrils. What’s that wonderful smell? I turn in the other direction, and my sight lands on a tiny diner at the other end of the fueling station’s lot.
Christ…the Stay-Hi Café?! I want to laugh again so bad, but I don’t chance it. It would be a bio disaster. I quickly talk myself out of venturing over to the aptly named diner. Nope…I’m not even going there. I’ll just grab a few snacks at the gas station after I’m done using the restroom.
I finally go inside the gas station and use the facilities. Once I’m fully relieved and have washed and dried my hands, I go out and scan the lackluster selection of chips and unappetizing-looking commercial pastries by the cash register. I instantly recall the smell of real food just outside these doors. My aroma memory is strong enough to make me walk out of here without purchasing a single thing.
When I return to the truck, Marjorie is still chatting with dispatch. I approach the open driver’s side door, interrupting her before she speaks back into the handheld microphone.
“Hey—sorry to interrupt, but I’m starving. I really want to check out that diner over there. Maybe I’ll make my phone call there while I’m at it.”
“Go ahead, by all means,” she encourages. “I’m gonna be a while in here. On top of figuring out an alternate route to get us to Sac so I’m not so late dropping off this load, they want to go over my next few stops afterwards. Soon as I’m done, I’ll join you there for a bite before we get back on the road.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
When I take one step inside the Stay-Hi Café, I am floored. I sort of expected a stoner vibe, but that’s not what I see. Instead, it instantly clicks for me how Marty McFly felt when he crash landed in 1955’s version of Hill Valley in Back to the Future.
This place definitely has its charm. Not a lot of bodies in here, but there are just enough patrons to keep the small waitstaff hopping. I don’t spot a hostess at the greeting stand, so I consider if I should just walk over to the bar and seat myself.
At a quick glance, I see a man across the way sitting alone at a small table. What grabs my attention the most is the cell phone placed near the edge of that table.
I need to tell Blair where I am, and how it will take me longer than anticipated to reach the beach house. Without a second thought, I march over to the man with the phone.
“Excuse me, sir,” I say coyly.
When his eyes rise and land on me, my breath and voice immediately disappear.
Holy fucking shit.
He is breathtakingly gorgeous.
Silky dark hair. Hypnotizing hazel eyes. Bulging biceps trying desperately to burst out of his blue long-sleeved buttoned-up shirt. Tight, tight jeans covering his impressive leg muscles. My mouth starts to water, and it’s not because I’m hungry for food.
“I… I…” I can’t form a single coherent phrase. I’m dumbstruck. To add insult to injury, his handsome mouth forms the cutest little smirk at my expense.
Fuck me. I’m beginning to get pissed off at myself. Focus, Quen! I plow through the haze in my brain.
“Can I use your phone?” I spit out. “Please?” I add, finally managing to catch my breath.
I’m totally expecting to give this beautiful stranger a full explanation as to why I need to borrow his phone, but he reaches for it and hands it to me. I’m stupefied.
Huh? No questions asked?
When the iPhone reaches my hands, I realize that he’s already unlocked it for me to use. Thankfully, I know Blair’s number by heart. I quickly dial it. As the phone rings in my ear, I’m way too nervous to turn around and look at the kind owner of the phone.
I do, however, feel his gaze piercing my side. As my stomach churns, three hours of hunger begin to dissipate. In spite of the delicious smells, I no longer want to eat here. I need out of this moment. Feeling beyond uncomfortable, I just want to climb back up in that truck and go far away from here.
Come on, Blair, pick up.
After the fourth ring, my call goes to voicemail.
Shit.
“This is Blair. You know what to do.” Beep!
Goddammit—she probably looked at the strange number and thought, ‘I don’t know who this is’. I stop myself from hanging up when I get a quick thought. This could be the last time I come across another phone for a while. In that same split second, I quickly chastise myself for not thinking to grab a phone charger while at the gas station. I’ll definitely have to go back and get one.
“Hey, Blair, it’s me… Quen,” I say awkwardly into the phone. “Just wanted you to know that I had some car trouble. But I’m still headed south. Now, there appears to be some issue on the interstate. Anyway…long story. I’ll call you later to let you know when I’m getting closer. Bye.”
I hang up, turn to the side, and place the phone back into the stranger’s waiting hand. And what a fine-looking stranger he is.
“Thank you,” I say softly, to the point where I feel embarrassed for myself.
Get a grip, woman.
“Hey—I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
Bloody hell, his voice sounds as good as he looks.
His bass-driven masculine-as-hell tone is the last thing celestial hosts hear before deciding to crash onto Earth. His timbre forces my lady parts into acoustic levitation. A small part of me prays for him to never speak another word, but the rest of me wants to wear his sounds like a silk stole. I mentally pimp slap my thoughts into submission as he fixes his beautiful mouth to say more.
“You’re having car trouble?” the too attractive stranger asks. In fact, it’s too much hotness for one man to hold. I expect his gorgeous supermodel wife or girlfriend to come barreling over here any minute now.
I nod. “Yes. When my car crapped out, I managed to catch a ride with a good Samaritan who so happened to be heading south like me. And then…”
“The I-5 backup.” He sighs with empathy.
I laugh. “Got you too, huh?”
“Yeah. By the way, what’s a sweet young lady like yourself doing hitchhiking?” He frowns with a tinge of a smile.
While stealthily catching my breath, I tease him just a little. “You don’t know me,” I chuckle. “How do you know I’m sweet?”
And holy fuck, he flashes me the sexiest grin before answering. “Wild guess. But maybe you’ll surprise me.”
Once again, my breath hitches in my throat.