Hitchhiker (5 page)

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Authors: Stacy Borel

BOOK: Hitchhiker
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Once inside, a short, older gentleman with light blue eyes standing behind the counter told us to seat ourselves. I acknowledged him with a ‘thank you’ and picked a booth in one of the corners. I sat facing out. I didn’t want my position to force me only to look at Dawson, although I wasn’t sure how I felt about him only having me to stare at, either. Ignoring the couple of extra beats that my heart took, I sat down and did my best not to make eye contact.

The seats were red, plastic, and cracked from wear and tear. I could feel the roughness of them through my jeans. All the tables had small jukeboxes against the wall, with old country selections from people like Loretta Lynn and Willy Nelson. I knew country music like the back of my hand, but I wasn’t raised on the older stuff. Throw some Beatles at me and I could sing right along with Paul and Ringo. As I glanced around, the whole place was a mix between a fifties’ drive-in and a western bar. Not sure how they blended it all, but it worked. The old man had walked in the back, and I could see him through the open window in the kitchen. A gray-haired woman with the same blue eyes padded over to our table. She was wearing a blue dress with a white apron and gray flats. We were the only ones in here—granted, it was two in the afternoon—but I couldn’t imagine this place was bustling at any other time. When she approached us, her kind smile made my shoulders slump. I hadn’t realized I was tense.

“Hey there, folks. What can we get started for ya?” She had a Southern accent, which seemed misplaced all the way up north, but I sometimes forgot that Montana was full of cowboys and working ranches. A slight quiver in her voice also showed her age.

I grinned before speaking. “May I get a glass of sweet tea, and do you mind me asking, what’s the soup today?”

She pulled the pen from her hair and wrote on a notepad. “Yes, ma’am, you sure you can. And the soup is creamy tomato. My husband is the grumpy old man that greeted y’all. He makes everything from scratch. People come from all over these mountains to eat here. But don’t tell him that; we can’t let him get a big head.”

I winked at her and said, “No worries; your secret’s safe with me.” My stomach growled, and my hand flew down to hold it. Embarrassed, I said, “Sorry. Any way I can get a grilled cheese with that if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Of course, honey.” Her twang rolled off her tongue. “And how about you, sir? You ready to order?” She turned her attention to Dawson.

He looked up at her, and I saw his features soften for the first time. “I’ll have what she’s having and a glass of water with lemon, please.”

She wrote down his order and winked at him before walking away. When he shifted his gaze toward me, his eyes went hard again. Geez, it was starting to grate on my nerves that he was incapable of giving me even half of a smile. I’d been nothing but nice to him thus far. Peeling my eyes away from his, I picked up the napkin in front of me and started folding it over and over. I compulsively fidgeted when I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could feel his gaze burning into me, and I knew he was watching my hands. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep this up and remain in complete silence before I’d burst. He might be able to go without speaking, but I couldn’t. Being alone and not having anyone to talk to was one thing, but this was a whole other ballgame that I didn’t think I could play.

“Sooo . . .” I cleared my throat. “Ever been to Big Sky?”

“Nope.”

“If you’ve never been, why do you want me to drop you off there?” I still restlessly folded my napkin. It was starting to shred.

“I never said I wanted you to drop me off in Big Sky.”

I pried my eyes from what I was doing. “Then where were you going?”

His slightly parted lips sealed shut. Did that mean he wasn’t going to answer? Several beats passed before the woman came over to our table and set our drinks down.

“Here y’all go. And your food will be out in a couple of minutes.” Before she walked away, she looked at the state of my napkin. “I’ll bring a few extra ones out with your food.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Thanks.”

When she walked away, I went back to my last question. For whatever reason, I was curious and didn’t want to let it go. “What were you traveling to Big Sky for?”

He leaned forward, and his nearness caused the scent of him to drift my way. I did everything I could to prevent myself from inhaling more of him than what I really wanted to. It should be a sin for a man to smell that good. Placing his forearms on the table, I noticed a tattoo on his left arm. The sleeve of his hoodie had ridden up, but not enough for me to see what it was or how far it went.

“You like to ask a lot of questions.”

I jerked my head back. “I believe I’ve only asked you four. I’d hardly call that a lot.”

His dark brown eyes seared into me. “That’s one too many.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Knowing a stranger’s name who is in my vehicle is kind of a necessity. Knowing where you’re going would seem to be the next natural progression of questions, seeing as how you didn’t tell me yesterday what your final destination was, either. And lastly, since you told me you’ve never been to Big Sky, I’m wondering what kind of business you could have there to keep you around.”

One of his hands was resting on top of his arm and I saw it contract around the muscle. “I gave you my name. As far as the rest goes, it’s none of your business.”

His tone was ruthless, leaving no room to push. Screw that, though. I’d find another way to asking him. I blew out a breath before starting in again. “Okay, well, I have a cell phone if you want to look up some places to stay while you are in town. Most will be fairly inexpensive this time of year since it’s not peak season.”

All coldness washed away from him and he smirked. “I have a phone.”

Drawing my eyebrows together, I said, “You do?”

“Yes, of course, I do. What do you think I am, homeless?”

Truth be told, I suppose I did. I couldn’t even fathom that a person would hitchhike out in the cold mountains just for the fun of it. Not unless they were crazy.

Leaning forward, Dawson said dryly, “Pretty sure if I listen close enough, I could hear you thinking.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have got to be the easiest person I’ve ever come across to read.”

Offended, I slumped back in my seat. “You don’t even know me. So don’t assume you can read me.”

“Well, you did, didn’t you?”

“I did what?”

“You thought I was homeless.”

Before answering him, I attempted to read him right back. Nothing. His face was expressionless and stoic. He was giving me nothing! “Maybe.”

He chuckled, and despite my frustration, it was a sweet sound to my ears. “Well, I’m not.”

I watched him this time, without reservation, and with more inquisition. Who was this person? Why was he getting rides from total strangers? Didn’t he know that was dangerous? Clearly he would, although, the sheer size of him alone would probably deter anybody from trying anything funny. All of these questions swirled around in my head, and they were on the tip of my tongue. Fortunately for him, the elderly woman came back to our table just before I was about to let them come tumbling out. I had no clue how such a small woman could carry that tray. It was about as big as she was. Gently, she placed our bowls in front of us and refilled our drinks.

“Careful, the bowls are hot. Y’all need anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Dawson answered politely.

She smiled and walked away.

“Soooo . . .” I started saying between blowing breaths on my steaming soup.

“No.” He opened his mouth and inserted his spoon. I watched with rapt attention as his lips closed over it and his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. “No more questions, Chandler.”

It was the first time since I’d given him my name that he’d said it aloud. “You remembered.”

He hit me with a pointed stare, but then looked back down at his food and continued to eat. The way he’d said my name caused me to shiver. Picking up my grilled cheese, I took a tentative bite and set it back down. Whatever appetite I had before was now gone. His elusiveness irritated me, as well as his reluctance to answer a simple question. Wiping my mouth, I set my napkin on the table and rested my hands back in my lap.

He stopped with his sandwich near his mouth. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Reaching across the table, Dawson pushed my bowl a little closer to me. “Eat,” he demanded.

“Excuse me?”

His unreadable face now appeared exasperated. “We stopped because you wanted food, and you’ve barely taken a bite. Eat.”

Okay, I didn’t care how attractive he was or what his excuse was for needing a ride; nobody told me what to do. Pushing the bowl back a couple of inches past its original spot, I raised my brow and said, “I’m good . . . thanks.”

His brown eyes met mine head-on. There was so much expression in that one look. There was a battle of wills happening here, and I was bending without even realizing I was doing it. Hungry or not, my insides quivered and I wanted to do whatever he was telling me to. I mean, anything. If he asked me to lay across the table and moan, I would. I didn’t understand it, but right now, it didn’t matter. Scowling at him, I pulled the soup back toward me and started eating again. Never once in my life had I allowed someone I barely knew to dictate what I did. I didn’t even like it when Syd or Seth tried to tell me what to do. In fact, I normally did the total opposite. This time . . . I felt like I had no choice. Those eyes were daring me to defy him. I didn’t want to.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence. When the woman brought the check, I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her, telling her to keep the change. Wiping my mouth, and picking up my purse, I started to stand when I noticed Dawson glaring at me.

“What in the hell was that?” Dawson’s voice penetrated my ears.

Confused I asked, “What?”

He pulled a wallet from his back pocket and started to take money out. I held my hand up to him, trying to halt his movement. He didn’t. He aggressively threw a twenty on the table.

“I’ve got it.”

“But I’ve already paid.”

“Okay, then you can put that back in your pocket.”

“Why? I don’t mind paying,” I argued.

I watched his jaw clench and unclench. He was angry, and I didn’t get why this was such a big deal.

“I don’t need you paying for my meals.”

I sat back and shook my head in confusion. “All right, but like you said before, I am the one who wanted to stop and eat. Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

His mouth hardened into a thin line. “Take the fucking money. I pay my own way.”

He stood and made his way out the door, leaving me inside. My own mouth dropped open, flabbergasted with his tone. It really wasn’t a big deal. I mean I knew I might have offended him earlier with the whole homeless thing, but this wasn’t about that. I just always offered to pay when I went out. That was me. I knew he didn’t know this fact about me, but his whole attitude wiped away any lapse in judgment I might have had about my attraction toward him. I was finding it hard to see anything redeeming in him at this point besides a pretty face. Priding myself on being nice and extending that kindness was just how I was. Clearly, we didn’t live by the same standards.

Not wanting to leave the money on the table, I leaned over and took it, shoving it in my pocket. I refused to make a fuss over this. He wanted to be a hard ass to me then I would do it right back. His blatant rudeness toward me was wearing on my last nerve, and I’d been around him for less than a day.

When I made it out to the Rover, Dawson was standing by the passenger side waiting for me to unlock it. Hitting the button, he didn’t speak a word as he climbed inside and buckled his seatbelt. Another game of silence, apparently. Wonderful. Getting to Big Sky was going to feel like an eternity sitting next to him. I gritted my teeth as we went the rest of the way through the mountaintops and over the slick roads. It only took another two hours before I saw the first sign indicating that we were five miles from our final destination. I couldn’t wait. Not only was I ready to get out of this car and stretch, but I was also anxious to see my house. It’d been too long. And, of course, let’s not forget about getting the guy next to me out of my car and on his merry little way. Out of sight and out of mind seemed to be the reoccurring theme playing in my head.

The town of Big Sky was extraordinarily small. It consisted of two main streets, both making a circle, with businesses occupying each building. Three grocery stores, all offering something a little different, a pizza shop, a sushi place, a gym, and a realtor’s office were the main ones that stood out. Figuring I’d hit up the grocery store before heading to the house, I parked.

“Well, we’re here.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and twisted toward him. “If I remember correctly, there is a hotel or lodge about a quarter of a mile that way,” I said pointing in the direction behind me. Wanting to avoid any awkwardness, I held my hand out to shake his. “Good luck with whatever you are after here.”

He looked down at my offered hand and then back up at me. I frowned. Wonderful, he was going to leave me hanging. Dropping my hand and hiding any forming embarrassment, I opened my door and started to step out.

A hand landed on my forearm and the warmth from it traveled across my skin and inadvertently caused a shiver. “Thanks for the ride, Chandler.”

I swallowed back the girly sigh that attempted to escape past my lips. While I appreciated his politeness now, it was a little too late for niceties. That flew out the window about a hundred miles back. Blinking rapidly, I nodded with a quiet, “Welcome,” and pulled my arm from his loose grip. Getting out, I shut my door and walked to the automatic sliding doors of the grocery store. I had no intention of turning around to make sure he got out, too. Instead, my only indication was hearing his door shut. A pang of sadness rolled through me. Why? No way should I be sad about not seeing Dawson again. I didn’t even know him. I’d chalk the crazy feelings up to being on the road too long and not getting enough sleep. Hitting the lock button on my keys, I moved forward, wanting to put this whole last leg of my trip behind me and begin to figure out how to heal whatever was broken inside me.

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