Read Night Driving Online

Authors: Lori Wilde

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance

Night Driving (4 page)

BOOK: Night Driving
7.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Tara froze, her face gone deathly pale.

The driver of the eighteen-wheeler blasted his horn, coming within inches of Tara as he rocketed from the parking lot.

Boone’s stomach had vaulted into his throat.

She jumped then, leaping into a hedge of bushes surrounding the diner. Boone moved as fast as he could, heart hammering. He’d intended to give her a good long lecture, but when he reached her, she was trembling all over.

“Are you all right?” he murmured.

She nodded mutely. Her legs wobbled beneath her.

He reached out and took her into his arms.

“You were right,” she said. “We should have gotten on the road. If we’d been on the road ahead of that stupid truck, I wouldn’t have been acting like a dummy.”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he reassured her, but she was a leaf in his arms, shaking uncontrollably.

“That was almost the end of me. Why don’t I ever think?”

“You were just caught up in the moment, enjoying the morning. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It could have been my last breath.” She leaned heavily against him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been walking backward,” he conceded. “But that guy shouldn’t have come cannonballing around the building knowing that people come walking through the parking lot from the motel to the diner.”

“You’re letting me off the hook?” She seemed surprised.

“I think you’re shaken up enough without me making any more comments. Let’s get some breakfast,” he murmured in her ear, surprised by the tender feeling of relief that had evaporated all his anger. She was okay. That’s all that mattered.

“No, we should get on the road.”

“You’re in no shape to drive. You need to sit down a bit. Get some color back into those cheeks.”

“Okay,” she agreed in a weak voice.

Boone let his hand drop to her waist, pressed his palm to the small of her back and escorted her toward the door. He had the strangest urge to grin.

They found a booth near the front door. Tara plunked down. It took Boone a minute to get seated across from her. He dropped his knapsack to the floor and stretched his right leg out across it.

Tara exhaled audibly.

He reached across the table to touch her hand. “You sure you’re okay?”

Her smile was wan. She pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “I’m getting there.”

The waitress came over. Boone ordered oatmeal and toast. Tara ordered the Slam Bang special. He eyed her speculatively. Where did she plan on putting all that food?

“What?” she asked as she handed the waitress her menu.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I have a high metabolism. I can eat like a horse and not gain weight.”

“Good for you.”

She took a sip of the orange juice the server brought her but didn’t meet his gaze. The steam from Boone’s coffee curled up between them. She fiddled with the wrapper from her straw, rolling the paper around her index finger, then unfurling it again.

“So,” she said. “How do you plan to get back home after you ruin your sister’s wedding?”

Boone blinked at her. For all his planning out the route and time scheduled, it had never once crossed his mind how he was going to get back to Montana. He’d been so single-minded about reaching Key West in time to stop Jackie from making a big mistake that he’d forgotten the return trip home.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said.

“Wow, something the great planner hasn’t thought out? I’m shocked.”

“Yeah, well, I was preoccupied.”

“Sticking your nose in your sister’s business.”

“It’s not like that.”

“No?” She planted her elbows on the table, rested her chin into her upturned palms. “What’s it like?”

“This is the first time Jackie has ever been in love. She doesn’t understand that she can’t trust those feelings.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not based on anything solid.” He studied her mouth. “It’s just lust. Not the real thing. You should know that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Guys fall all over you.”

“So?” She narrowed her eyes. “You think I’ve been in love gobs of times?”

“Haven’t you?”

“Just because I’m lively and like people doesn’t mean I go falling in love willy-nilly.”

That was precisely what he’d thought of her. Her house was always filled with people. She dated a lot. It was a natural assumption.

“How many times have you been in love?” he asked, not knowing why he was pursuing this topic. It was none of his damned business.

She studied him for a long moment, her winsome blue eyes drilling into his until he started feeling downright antsy. “How many times have
you
been in love?”

Boone drummed his fingers on the Formica tabletop. “I asked you first.”

She dropped her hands into her lap, notched up her chin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”

“Not even with Chet?”

“Oh, heck no. He was good in bed and lots of fun and I was ready for an adventure. I was going through a cowboy phase, which was why I moved up here with him.”

Jealousy shot through Boone, crisp and concise. The last thing he wanted to think about was Tara in bed with that cowboy. He wondered if she’d ever gone through a soldier phase, and then mentally kicked himself for wondering it.

“So you weren’t crushed when he left?”

“Only because I had to pay the rent all on my own.”

Boone shook his head.

“What?” A smile played at her lips.

“I envy you.”

“For what?”

“The easy way you take life.”

“So you
have
been in love.” She nodded as if he’d just confirmed something she suspected.

“I thought I was, once. That’s how I know what love is not.”

Tara leaned forward, rubbed her palms together. “Ooh, now it’s getting juicy. What was her name?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Still hung up on her, huh?”

“No, not at all. I’m just embarrassed that I let her make a fool of me.”

“She cheated on you.”

“Yeah.” He bit off the word, grateful to see the waitress coming toward them with their breakfast.

“Well,” Tara said, “at least you’re not commitmentphobic.”

“Are you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Kinda. Sorta. At least that’s what Chet said.”

“I thought he was the one who left you.”

“Yeah, when I turned down his marriage proposal.”

“Poor Chet,” Boone said, not feeling sorry for ol’ Chet in the least. “You broke his heart.”

She shrugged. “Not on purpose. I was very clear from the beginning that it wasn’t a long-term relationship.”

“Are you always that clear about your expectations from a relationship?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No,” he admitted.

She dug into her breakfast, fork in one hand, knife in the other, both elbows sticking out. The platter was heaped high with bacon and eggs and pancakes and hash browns. “You want some? I got plenty.”

He raised a palm. “I’m good.”

She narrowed her eyes at his oatmeal. “That’s not enough to feed a sparrow.”

“Since I’m not mobile, I have to keep a check on the calorie count.”

“Suit yourself.” She waved a fork. “So what was her name?”

“Who?”

“The one who broke your heart.”

He shrugged.

“You forgot her name?”

“Believe me, I wanted to.”

“Isn’t it a shame we can’t get selective amnesia when it suits us.”

“Shame,” he echoed.

“So what was her name?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me, but maybe if you talked about her, you could get over her.”

“I’m over her.”

“You sure?” She sank her teeth into a sausage link.

“Positive.”

“Then tell me her name.”

“Shaina.”

“Pretty name. Was she good in bed?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a legitimate question. The top two reasons couples break up are money and sex.”

Boone couldn’t believe she was asking something so personal. Then again, he could. Tara had no boundaries. Was it strange that, while her questions rubbed him the wrong way, he was starting to admire the way she just said whatever popped into her head? No filter. No caution. Just plowing straight ahead and grabbing at life with open arms. Trouble was, he was a cactus and she was a shiny red balloon.

“It wasn’t money,” he growled.

“So she
was
bad in bed.” Tara wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Could you hand me the syrup?”

He passed the syrup. “No, she was very good in bed. Everyone’s bed. That was the problem. Her extreme proficiency in bed.”

Tara’s eyes went all goopy soft as she drizzled maple syrup over her pancakes. “Oh, Boone, I’m so sorry.”

“Why? Did you sleep with her?”

Her hearty laugh captured him. Embraced him like a hug. How could someone hug you with a laugh?

A man put money in the jukebox and at eight o’clock in the morning, with the smell of bacon wafting in the air, it was downright incongruous hearing Ingrid Michaelson singing “Be OK.”

“That’s really why you want to stop Jackie from getting married, isn’t it?” Tara surprised him with her chirpy insight. “To keep her from making the same mistake you did. It’s really your mistakes you want to erase, not hers.”

Boone shook his head, polished off his oatmeal. “She barely knows the guy. They’ve only been going out a few weeks.”

“You and your sister weren’t raised together, right?”

“Yes. Where’d you hear that?”

“When I said goodbye to Mrs. Levison at the party, she said your sister is the daughter of Jack Birchard, the famous oceanographer.”

“That’s right. She’s my half sister.”

“Why the deep investment? It takes a lot of time, money and energy to drive across the country to ruin someone’s wedding.”

“I wasn’t there for her when she was growing up.”

“Why do you feel that it was your responsibility to be there for her?”

“When our mom dumped her, I could have made things easier for her.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. A big brother can’t make up for an AWOL mother.”

“I could have told her it wasn’t her fault that she left.”

“I doubt you telling her that would have made a difference.”

“Yeah, well.”

“You still feel guilty even when it had nothing to do with you. C’mon, Boone, you’re not responsible for what your mother did. I’m sure Jackie doesn’t hold you accountable in any way.”

This was making him uncomfortable. This is what he got for opening up to her. She was kicking off her shoes, climbing into his brain, making herself right at home, running barefoot through his psyche. He folded his arms over his chest. “You sure take your time over a meal.”

“You’re supposed to eat slowly. It aids digestion.”

“It does not aid expediency.”

“You went to college,” she said.

“I did.”

“You use a lot of big words.”

“In some circles, a large vocabulary is considered an asset.”

“I didn’t go,” she said, wistfully licking syrup from her fork. “To college, that is. My parents couldn’t afford it. Not on a plumber and secretary’s salary. Too many kids. I put myself through beauty school.”

“Doing what?”

“Swear you won’t laugh.”

“What? Did you work in a strip club?”

“Boone!” She looked half amused, half insulted. “What in the world do you think of me?”

He raked a gaze over her. “With a body like that you could make a fortune dancing.”

Her cheeks pinked and she looked both pleased and embarrassed. “Thank you. I think. No, I worked at an amusement park.”

“Doing what?”

“I was a character.”

“You are that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Specifically, a chipmunk.”

“You got the spunk of a chipmunk. I’ll give you that.”

“Why, thank you. That’s exactly what they told me at Florida Land.”

“You finished?” He tapped the face of his watch. “It’s almost nine. We’ve got to hit the road.”

“You know, if you keep doing that I’m gonna have to smash that watch.”

He narrowed his eyes, pretended to be affronted when he wasn’t. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s for your own good.” She bit into a crisp slice of bacon, her gaze hooked on his. “You don’t know how to slow down, relax and take it easy.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to sit around. It drives me batty. Relaxing is severely overrated.”

“Because your mindset is rush, rush, rush, go, go, go. It’s killing you to be incapacitated. That’s why you had to go back for a third surgery. Because you couldn’t sit still and just be. Now you’re having to learn the hard way that life doesn’t always turn out the way you planned.”

“How much do I owe you for the analysis, Dr. Freud?”

Tara grinned. “It’s on the house.”

“And the advice is well worth every penny.”

“Oh-ho, here come the barbs.”

“I wanted to be on the road hours ago.”

“And here we were getting along so well there for a split second.”

“You’d think you’d be in a hurry, too,” Boone said. “To see your mother.”

A shadow flickered over her face. “I’m not very good when those I love are sick.”

“But you’re going home anyway.”

“Of course. I love my mother.”

“Yet here you are, over a thousand miles away.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “It was my mom who told me to follow my bliss. She encouraged me to leave Florida.”

“Why’s that?”

“She got married young and started having kids, and even though she never said it, I think she regretted not getting to have adventures.”

“What did your dad say?”

“He’s my dad. He was dead set against it, but Mom convinced him.”

“Could you get a to-go bag for the rest of that?” He nodded at her half-eaten breakfast.

The waitress led a cowboy past their table. Boone pointed at Tara’s plate, silently mouthed “to-go box” to the waitress and pantomimed signing the check.

The waitress nodded.

“I90 East is a mess,” the cowboy told the waitress. “Eighteen-wheeler jackknifed and turned over, blocked that entire side of the freeway. Bread truck. Loaves of bread and buns strewn everywhere. You should have seen the birds flocking. I thought I was in a Hitchcock movie.”

BOOK: Night Driving
7.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Boswell's Bus Pass by Campbell, Stuart
This Hero for Hire by Cynthia Thomason
The Summoning by Denning, Troy
Tekgrrl by Menden, A. J.
The Incredible Banker by Subramanian, Ravi
Bourbon Empire by Mitenbuler, Reid
Arkansas by David Leavitt
Estudio en Escarlata by Arthur Conan Doyle
Zombie Ocean (Book 3): The Least by Grist, Michael John
Barefoot in the Sand by Roxanne St. Claire