"When did you plan on stopping for the night?" I wasn't positive about the sleeping arrangements he'd planned. Truthfully, I hadn't asked because I didn't want to fret over it.
"I'd planned on us stopping around nine. So, we lost roughly three hours of drive time." He's still fiddling with his phone when Hawk approaches our table.
"Little lady, you were fantastic tonight." He smiles down at me, and there is a warmth in his eyes. He slides his eyes over to Ryker, and they immediately harden. I fight back a giggle. Poor guy can't catch a break tonight. "I called in a favor, and Big Ben is going to open up his shop tonight and work on your car. The last thing we want is for Miss Zella to miss out on meeting her parents."
Emotion craws up the back of my throat. I smile at him because it's all I can manage. Ryker expresses his thanks, stands, and sticks out his hand, surprising Hawk. They shake, some kind of manly understanding passes between them.
"I've got my truck in the back. I'll drive you to your car so you can get your stuff then back in to town. There's a motel; it's pretty nice for these parts. Tiny's family owns it, and they are getting a room ready for you guys. It's on the house. Your car will be parked out front and your key left in the office in the morning when you wake up."
I'm speechless, and a tear leaks from my eyes.
Ryker shakes his head. "Wow, thank you so much. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, but please, don't comp the work on the car."
Hawk nods and says all right, though I get the impression from the look on his face that Ryker's bill won't be the full price.
We follow Hawk out of the bar.
Before we leave, Tiny catches up to me. "Miss Zella, I followed you on Instagram. Make sure you post pictures of meeting your parents and as you mark off items on that bucket list."
I laugh and promise him I will share all the pictures.
Thirty minutes later, Ryker and I check into a tiny one-bedroom with two full beds. Like Hawk said, the room is pretty nice. The decor isn't outdated much, and the room looks and smells clean. Ryker seems at ease as he tosses his duffle on the bed closest to the door, then gently lays his satchel next to it.
"I know we ate bar food at Cuddle Ducks, but there is a convenience store a couple blocks away. Let's take a walk and get some popcorn or something, and some of those boxed donuts for the morning. That way, we don't have to waste time getting on the road." He unzips his bag and digs around for something as I put my own bag on my bed.
"Sounds like a plan," I tell him, as I look around the room. There's a tiny microwave and coffee pot on the desk across from the beds.
"Here." I look up as Ryker tosses me a sweatshirt. It's a little chilly out, and I didn't expect to be walking around this late. I have a light sweatshirt in my bag, but I don't mention it. As I pull the cozy hoodie over my head, I'm engulfed in Ryker. The smell of him seeps through the fabric, and I imagine what it would be like if it were Ryker who was wrapped around me. I discreetly pull the collar up to my nose and inhale. I may just sleep in this fabric cloud of heaven.
"Let's go," he says from the door as he opens it. If he witnessed my sniffing of his hoodie, he doesn't show it. I gather my pride and follow him, grabbing my purse as I leave.
We spend ten minutes in the tiny store, gathering food and drinks. Ryker tells me he needs to grab something in the back and tells me to meet him upfront. I wander around the front and am trying on sunglasses when he appears at my side, a few bags in hand. "You already paid?"
"Yeah, you were engrossed in the glasses." He chuckles.
"I would have paid. This is my trip." I huff. I hate that he's footing the bill.
"No worries, Blondie. Think of it as me treating you to dinner." I giggle and nod. He has a point.
Back in our room, I kick off my flippies and start to pull out the provisions, wondering if he'd mind if I opened the donuts now.
"Hey, I got you something." He's standing next to me, close enough that our arms are nearly touching when he hands me a box. I take the box from him and realize it's a box of purple hair dye. The grin grows on my face, and when I look up at him, his smile matches my own.
"It's semi-permanent, so after a few washes, it'll come out. Thought I'd help you mark off another bucket list item." He lifts his shoulder like it isn't a big deal, but it is to me. Turning slightly, so I'm facing him, I catch him off guard with a hug. He laughs as he hugs me back.
"Gotta admit, Blondie, I'm liking how you thank me."
"You give the best presents," I say as I lean back from him, bringing us face to face.
He smirks—a cocky, sexy smirk. "I give good—"
I place my hand over his mouth. "Don't ruin the moment, Ryker."
He winks at me, then kisses the palm of my hand. Tingles shoot through my hand, up my arm, and straight down to my core. I blink and slowly remove my hand from his mouth. The flush creeps up my neck and stops at my cheeks. I step back, and he lets go of me.
"I'm going to do this now. You good out here?" I walk backward, taking the box with me.
He winks again. "I'm sure I'll find something to do while I wait for you and your purple hair."
"That's good." I scurry into the bathroom and close the door.
Thirty minutes later, I open up the bathroom, and a rush of cool air hits my skin as all the steam that was held hostage in the tiny bathroom escapes. Upon reading the directions on the hair color box, I realized there was no way I’d be able to dye my own hair. There is just too much of it. So I decided on a nice sized chunk near the front of my head and dyed that instead. Then I showered off a day's worth of travel and biker bar stench. I normally don't blow dry my hair, mostly because I don't have time for that, but using the compact blow dryer in the bathroom, I now have a section of dry, purple hair.
The bathroom mirror clears from its fog as I braid my hair. I absolutely adore the pop of color. That's it. I'm going to make a hair appointment when we get back home, and I'm getting my hair cut. I want more colors in my hair. I'm going to have to revisit all the pictures I have saved in a special folder on my phone, so I know exactly what I want.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I see Ryker on his bed, leaning against the headboard, arm behind his head, watching something on the television. He focuses on me and drops the remote in his hand.
"Well, let's see it, Blondie." He kicks his feet over the side of the bed, sitting there waiting for me as I walk to him. I sit down opposite of him on my bed and pull my braid over my shoulder and turn the side of my head toward him.
"I didn't have enough for all my hair, so I just did a strip. I love it." I tell him as I face him.
His smile is soft and sweet. "It suits you. I almost think the strip is better." He lifts his hand and snags a piece of purple hair that has already fallen from the braid. I swear, my hair has a mind of its own, and right now, it's asking for Ryker's touch.
He gently toys the strands, twirling them between his forefinger and thumb. I don't realize I'm leaning in toward him until I notice how close we are. He's leaning in too, my hair drawing us together.
I bite my lip as my gaze drops to his mouth. The corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk, and my eyes dart back to his. He isn't looking at me though. No, his focus is on my hair that is within his grasp. He must sense my gaze because he slowly drags his eyes to mine, then they drop to my lips.