3. Genevieve

THREE

GENEVIEVE

“Are you ready for some real food?” Amos asks about seven hours into our fifteen-hour road trip. We’ve made one pit stop along the way. He made it seem like it was for diesel, but I think it had something to do with my legs jiggling back and forth. Try as I might, the caffeine hit hard in more than just the jitters, which, by the way, Amos packed enough of to keep me awake for the next three days.

“Might not be a bad idea. A girl can only last on junk food for so long.” I didn’t eat all the snacks he packed, but I did have a small taste of each one, minus the chips. I’ve never met a chip I wouldn’t eat, and since he had all of my favorites, I knew what would happen if I so much as opened a bag. I’d smash them so fast and wouldn’t stop until they were gone.

“Yeah, the sunflower seeds left my body a while ago. Figure we’ll stop, grab a bite to eat, and we’ll find a hotel for the night. Anything in particular you feel like eating for dinner?” I look away from the sketch I’ve been working on most of the afternoon. We’ve talked here and there, but for the most part, it’s been a comfortable silence. Amos will change the song occasionally, and sometimes we’ll get thirty seconds into it before he’s hitting the arrow button on his steering wheel to shuffle the music. It’s only when I start humming along to the tune that he settles in and leaves the song.

“I don’t care. Whatever you want works for me.” I shrug my shoulders for emphasis. Amos flips his blinker on, signaling that he’s taking the ramp and detouring off the interstate.

“Oh no. Raised Sienna practically since she could have an opinion. The last thing I’m going to recommend is where to eat. My luck, I’ll say barbecue and you’ll want seafood.” I scrunch my nose up at both of those suggestions.

“Not a fan of seafood, so you’re good there. Have you seen me around a drink while walking? Can you imagine me with sauce?” Maybe if we were at the ranch or I was in the comfort of my own home with a bib, I could make it work. In front of the hottest cowboy I’ve ever met, no freaking way.

“See what I mean? You choose. I’ll eat whatever as long as it’s not soup or salad.” Amos has his wrist hanging over the wheel, his arm on the center console, and I’m currently in a battle with where to look more. His tousled hair is lying haphazardly along his forehead and on the side of his head, probably from running his long thick fingers through the strands while battling traffic earlier. Amos is older than me, yet he doesn’t make the age difference between Trey and Sienna a big deal. Maybe it could be the same between us. Oh, who am I kidding? There isn’t an us. That doesn’t stop me from thinking about it every other waking moment. Damn my best friend for putting these thoughts in my head and for Amos lighting me up with his soft touches.

“Mexican?” I ask with hopefulness in my tone. Amos takes his eyes off the road when we come to a complete stop, waiting for the light to change, and I’m questioning where to look all over again. He’s got a day’s worth of stubble along his jawline, long eyelashes fanning his hazel eyes, and his lips… God, I can only imagine how soft they’d feel, how roughly he’d take my mouth, and when his teeth press into his lower lip, my brain goes haywire, a lot like it is right now. I press my thighs together. This time they aren’t bouncing up and down; they’re clenching, trying to keep myself together in a different way.

“Sounds good to me.” The light changes, and he turns right. I lose his attention and refocus mine on the road, mainly looking for a restaurant that we’re after. I could just as easily pull out my phone and do a quick search, but since we’re in a bigger area off the interstate, there’s usually anything you’re looking for. Amos maneuvers his truck and trailer like it’s a small car instead of this mammoth of a beast.

“Damn,” he mutters under his breath once we’re on the main drag of the town we’re staying in tonight. I’ve been busy looking at places to eat and have no idea what’s going on with Amos until he elaborates, “Looks like we need to find a hotel room first, then get some food. A bunch of no vacancy lights are flashing, and I’m not about to put us in a roach motel. So, we’ll see where this next road leads us, and if it’s shit, we’ll hit the next town over.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize that. Clearly, I was looking with my stomach and not sleep.” I feel like a heel. He’s been doing most of the work, driving, stopping when I don’t even so much as breathe a word about needing to relieve myself, and here I am, being selfish.

“Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart.” He’s been easy going so far. I only hope that I don’t do anything to change that.

“What about that one?” I point like a dummy; the sun is setting, and I’m sure he has not one damn clue what hotel I’m looking at.

“Which one, Genny?” It’s then I see he’s squinting, and maybe his eyes are a lot more tired than mine are. Though, the blue light-blocking glasses help a lot with eye fatigue.

“The Lodge. There doesn’t seem to be a light on, but maybe they don’t have one either?” I answer his question with one of my own.

“Only one way to find out. Should have thought about finding a place before we left this morning. But I had my mind on other shit, and it completely slipped,” Amos says with annoyance.

“I could have brought it up, too. We we’re just going with the flow. I know driving this rig would take a lot of work and I’d do a horrible job. You’d have no rims, maybe a bent frame, too, but if this doesn’t work out, I’m not opposed to sleeping in the truck for the night.”

“Not happening, Genevieve. You want to learn to drive my rig, we’ll do it when we’re back at the ranch. What we aren’t doing is sleeping in a truck when there are a million other hotels along the way.” Amos turns into the parking lot of what seems like a more upscale hotel than the others.

“We’ll see about driving. I’m not sure I can see over the hood of your truck, much less drive it.” I’m currently the passenger princess and have a hard enough time looking at my surroundings with how big his truck is.

“The seat moves, up and down, backwards and forwards, as well as the pedals. I’ll get you behind the wheel soon enough.” Amos stops under the covered entrance, places the truck in Park , and turns to look at me before saying, “Sit tight. This won’t take too long. We’ll get settled and find some food nearby.” He opens the center console, his fingers grazing mine as he does, and I’m left speechless as he pulls his wallet out. Then he grabs his cowboy hat, places it on his head, and pulls the handle on his door. The interior light causes me to squint as it illuminates the cab.

Felt cowboy hat? Check.

Gray cotton shirt stretched across his upper body? Check.

Worn jeans, molded to his lower half? Check

Boots that I’m sure have seen better days? Check.

And that’s Amos with his clothes on . Jesus, Genevieve, get your mind out of the gutter. This isn’t going to end with sex.

“Lock up, Genny.” Amos captures my attention with the deep gravelly timbre of his voice.

“Oh, okay.” I’m totally busted. My eyes avert to look anywhere except him. When Amos closes his door, I hit the lock button, and try as a I might, there’s no denying myself the opportunity to watch as he carries himself. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, and thick thighs. Yep, I’m totally screwed. Sharing a hotel room with him is going to be impossible for my raging hormones. And don’t even get me started on thinking about him in the shower with only a door separating us. I’ve really done it this time. I’ve got myself in a world of trouble, only this time, it’s of the sexy cowboy variety.