Gavin gave a bitter laugh. “I was engaged to a woman who promised she would wait for me. Taylor didn’t. What makes you so fucking different?”
“Gavin, when you figure that out, you’ll have your answer.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“There’s a gas station at the next exit.” Wiggling in her seat, Ginny saw the lighted sign ahead.
“We can’t stop there.” Gavin’s firm refusal had her pleading with him.
“I told you six exits back that I have to go,” she complained. “I’m hungry, and we’re almost out of gas.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, this is the last road trip I take with you,” she complained.
“A road trip we wouldn’t have been on if you had kept your ass in Nashville.”
“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you? For the thousandth time, I regret it. You have no idea how much.” Tapping her fingers on the door beside the window, she leaned forward, seeing a lighted sign. “Can we stop there? They have a gift shop with homemade taffy—”
“No. Besides, the gift shop will be closed.” Gavin unapologetically sped past the exit.
“The sign said it was open twenty-four hours,” she corrected him. “I love taffy. I’ve never tasted homemade.” Ginny unhappily saw the brightly lit store sign glowing invitingly from the interstate as they drove past. The sign was screaming at her to “come here.” I want to, she replied in her head, but meanie over here won’t let me.
“Did you say something?”
“I said I’m never going on a road trip with you again.” Folding her arms against her chest, she wiggled in her seat, trying to relieve the pressure on her bladder. They hadn’t stopped since they had started this afternoon. She was thirsty, hungry, had to pee, and dammit, she had wanted that stupid taffy.
“How many times do I have to tell you where we’re stopping? A brother is going to meet up with us in four miles with gas and something for you to eat and drink.”
Ginny stared at him suspiciously when he left out the most important part. “Does he have a restroom on his motorcycle, too?”
“No, but there will be trees and plenty of privacy.”
Her head fell back to the headrest. Then she straightened at seeing another exit sign.
“Can’t we—”
“No. Ginny, it’s just not safe. I don’t even want you to get out of the car until after Jesus leaves.”
“This illness is worse than you’re telling me, isn’t it?”
“I’m telling you …” Exasperation on Gavin wasn’t a good look. His cheeks were bulging out like a beaver as if he was thinking of chewing off … her head. Then a long-suffering sigh escaped Gavin, nearly parting her hair. “I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances. Jesus’s sister came back from a cruise. We’re just being precautious. Can that be good enough for you?”
“Of course.” She bopped her head to a new song coming on the radio. “I’m not a child. I’m only complaining to take my mind off having to use the potty. I’m sorry. Do you want to play another game?”
Gavin looked like he stepped on a rotten egg. “I’m gamed out. For a woman who hates games, it’s amazing how many car games you know.”
“I learned them when I traveled on the road with the band. I might not enjoy playing them, either, but it’s not like you were giving me any stimulating conversation when I tried to talk to you. You even complained about the light on my phone bothering you when you’re driving. And now you’re complaining about playing games, which—” Ginny paused to take another breath. “—I don’t understand, since you won four out of five of them.”
“I had to because when I let you win, you gloated for twenty fucking miles. I had to win to shut you up.”
“You let me win?” Ginny scoffed. “I was the one who let you win all those games.”
“Yeah right,” he scoffed back.
“Sweet man, you’re about to get your comeuppance,” she warned, ruining the effect by wiggling in her seat.
“Can you stop doing that?”
“Then pull over. I haven’t seen a car in ten miles.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes, I lost my pride four exits ago.”
Gavin slowed her car, gradually pulling off the road near an out-cropping of trees. Ginny eagerly unfastened her seatbelt. then opened the glove box to take out a plastic container.
“What’s—”
“Handi Wipes. They’re for when I—”
“I know what they’re for,” he snapped. “For God’s sake, just hurry.”
Her hand stilled on the door handle. “Do you have a gun?”
Gavin lifted his head off the steering wheel. “Why?”
“To protect yourself while I’m gone.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes. I don’t want to be worried about you when I’m trying to go. You might not know this, but if a woman is nervous, it makes it hard to—”
Gavin put up his hand to stop her. “I have a gun.”
“Handy? The gun won’t be any good if it’s in the back seat.”