Once Upon a Road Trip (48 page)

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Authors: Angela N. Blount

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Psychology, #Interpersonal Relations

BOOK: Once Upon a Road Trip
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Vince tightened his hold on her hand. “You are -so- much more than she was. In every way,” he said, his eyes as intent as his voice. “There’s no reason for you to worry.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she was here first.” Angie slipped her hand out of his grasp and reached up, touching the middle of his forehead with her index finger. “—and here.” Hand hovering lower, she tapped the same finger to his chest directly over his heart. “Eventually, something I do or say will remind you of her and you’ll get upset, and I won’t know why. I don’t think I can stand to be haunted like that.”

Vince’s verdant gaze recoiled. It seemed he’d finally been stunned out of any ready response. His expression went slack, and he turned to fix his gaze upward. The serenity that had been there just a short while ago was replaced by a warring torrent of emotion. “Is that really it, then? Did I give up my chance of being with you before I even met you?” His voice bordered on despondent, though Angie thought she still detected a determined set to his brow. “Couldn’t you just…forgive me?”

His last question sent her mind reeling. “I can,” she said at last, deflecting her gaze.
I’d have to.
“But you’re not the one I’d have the hardest time forgiving. And forgiveness doesn’t make consequences go away.” What if his ex had given him an STD and he didn’t realize it yet? The agonizing thought shot through her, settling in her stomach like a ball of lead. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m strong enough to work through all of that.”

And that was the raw truth of it. She couldn’t recall ever experiencing so much anger and grief on someone else’s behalf — and he didn’t even belong to her. How much worse would it be if she did have a right to it?

Angie sensed him shift position, turning onto his side until he faced her. His fingertips traced along her hairline, brushing behind her ear and then down her jaw until he’d lifted her chin. She had to look at him then.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever met,” Vince said, his eyes boring through every defense she’d erected between them. “Whatever you decide about me, you should know that.”

Angie’s throat tightened, and a stinging sensation formed behind her eyes. It took all her willpower to fight back the tears. She struggled to find something to tell him, but thoughts slipped from her mind like sand through her fingers.

He can’t mean all of this.

Vince’s expression grew troubled. “Your eyes look green,” he said. Still holding her face he murmured a quiet plea, “Don’t be upset, Angel.”

Knowing she was close to losing control, Angie drew her head back and sat up. The change of position did nothing to alleviate the ache knotted low in her chest. In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to flee the strange upwelling of sorrow, longing, and fear. “I just need some air,” she said, without looking Vince’s way.

Angie pivoted to set her feet on the floor and laid a hand on Budweiser’s head. “Come on, Bud. I’m borrowing you for a little bit.” She fought to project a casual voice. The lounging animal tracked her movements, huffing to his feet when she made a beckoning sound. She was afraid at first that Vince would argue or follow her out, but he didn’t.

As she reached the back door and clipped a leash onto Bud’s collar, she couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed by his master’s lack of pursuit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Angie made it down the length of the driveway and back twice before it occurred to her that organizing her surroundings might help her to organize her mind. She then spent the next several hours doing her laundry and studying road maps in preparation for her departure. 

All the while Vince went about his own routine, spending much of the time either mowing the lawn or at his computer. He sought Angie out periodically to check on her, though he kept a respectable distance and didn’t hover. She would have been tempted to think he’d come to his senses, if not for the turmoil she detected behind his practiced smile. Her confusion continued to loom, in spite of her best efforts.

Toward the end of the afternoon she commandeered his dog again and set out to give herself a tour of the neighborhood. The crunching of gravel underfoot became a rhythmic sort of therapy to her conflicted mind.

“Just give me something—some sense that he’s not what you had in mind,” she said under her breath. Expecting the foreboding hesitation she’d had when considering a relationship with Scott, she was perplexed to be left without any impression at all. Logic told her that Vince should be an easy “no.” But her emotions were clouded, even when he wasn’t standing in front of her. Whatever it was she’d begun to feel for him, it was far more complex than attraction. “God, I don’t know what I’m doing.” She gave Budweiser’s leash a light tug to direct them down another forested lane lined with dilapidated trailers. “I just want you to be happy with me,” she continued praying. “And I don’t want to cause Vince any more pain.”

Angie wasn’t certain how long she’d been walking and carrying on her seemingly one-sided conversation before she began to question her surroundings. By this time, her portly companion had lost his enthusiasm. Stopping to get her bearings, she used the setting sun to determine her direction and pulled together a mental map in her mind.

Great.
Even on foot, I manage to get lost.

Budweiser seized the opportunity to lie down in the grass beside the road.

“Home, boy!” Angie said. The dog stared at her, pointed ears swiveling. Aside from that, he made no move. She sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

Catching sight of a familiar sign in the distance, she got Bud to his feet and turned her full focus to relocating Vince’s house. Several minutes later they turned down a street she thought she recognized. Their progress was slowed by the dog’s mulish attempts to sit in the middle of the road, which reduced him to cooperative equivalent of a thirty-pound doorstop.

“You’re a disgrace to dog-kind.” Angie grumbled, though all verbal persuasion had proven useless. “I am SO not carrying you.”

The miniature pincher perked up to the sound of a distant whistle. He shot to his feet and set off at a gallop, pulling Angie along behind him. At the base of a low hill, their goal came into view. A lone figure paced back and forth in front of the house to their right. Relieved, she released the dog’s leash, and the animal went bounding across the expansive yard to greet his master. Angie smiled to herself, watching the two wrestle while she followed the same path at a less exuberant pace. By the time she’d arrived, Vince had let Bud into the house and came walking back to meet her. The strained look on his face caught her unawares.

“Sorry to keep your dog out so long,” she called to him. “I got a little turned around.”

“How far did you go?” Vince asked, stress evident in his tone. “I’ve been walking the strip, and I didn’t see you anywhere. I was about to start driving around—”

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” Angie stopped in front of him, studying the lines of anxiety that creased his brow and tightened around his eyes. She had to wonder how long he’d been distressed over her disappearance. “I needed to think. It helps when I’m walking.”

“Could you at least stay close if you really have to do that?” He began to reach for her arm but seemed to think better of it, withdrawing his hand back to his side. “And take my phone with you. I don’t know most of the people around here—I wouldn’t call it a safe neighborhood.”

“Well, that’s why I took Bud with me.”

Vince arched a brow. “Bud? Yeah, he’d be great protection...in the event that you were attacked by squirrels.”

Angie held up a hand in pause. While his voice had relaxed, she noted an underlying air of drama to his hand gestures.

Why do I think it’s so charming when he’s being spazzy and sarcastic?

“Look, I know I got myself into a little trouble last night, but I’m a big girl. And I really am capable of taking care of myself. I’m not some delicate little waif.” Offense reared its head as she spoke, and before she knew it, she’d started in on his chivalry. “I can open my own doors and pull out chairs for myself just fine, thank you. I’ve made it this far on my own and survived.”

While she’d expected a snide and well deserved remark about her sense of self-preservation, Vince’s thoughts appeared to shift elsewhere. With a profound expression she didn’t understand, he took a tentative step into her personal space.

She didn’t move.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he said, with absolute conviction. His vivid eyes probed hers. With the same underlying resolve, he lifted a hand and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “I just think...you shouldn’t -have- to.”

There was nothing astounding about his choice of words. But the way he’d used them — the significance in the way he looked at her as he spoke — overwhelmed Angie in an instant. She finally understood. His attentive treatment of her had nothing to do with the presumption that she was weak, and everything to do with the conviction that she was valuable.

Before Angie had time to consider the impulse, she pitched herself forward, pressing her lips to his in a fierce conveyance of emotion.

Seeming almost as shocked by this as she was, Vince staggered back a half step as he caught a hold of her, arms circling her waist. He recovered quickly. Matching her intensity, he locked them into a lingering embrace. When it finally ended, it was at his initiative.

“Easy,” Vince breathed, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “—shouldn’t start something we can’t finish.”

Abashed by his astuteness, guilt circulated through Angie like ice water. She didn’t know what had come over her. “You’re right...I’m sorry.” Choking out the words, she pulled away from him and turned.

“Wait—” He caught her hand, as if he knew she was about to fall to pieces before she’d realized it herself.

Angie pulled free and broke into a sprint. She didn’t know where she was going — only that she needed to cry and didn’t want anyone to see her. Within a few strides she felt arms encircle her waist and she doubled forward, a halfhearted attempt to escape. She only succeeded in throwing off Vince’s anchoring balance, sending them both tumbling into the grass. He pressed her back to his chest as they landed, absorbing most of the fall with his shoulder.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, feeling her entire body shudder.

“Shhh.” He whispered into her ear. “Is your neck okay?”

Angie nodded, unable to answer him until a round of sobbing had run its course.

“I don’t...know why...I did that,” she finally uttered between gasps, regaining some measure of control.

“Which one?” Vince asked. “The part where you kissed me, or the part where you ran away, bawling?”

She laughed at the unexpected wryness in his tone. “Both, I guess.”

Vince gave a quiet chuckle, hugging her to him for a long moment before easing his hold. “You sure you have to leave tomorrow?”

Angie hesitated only a second before nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure. I caused everybody enough trouble delaying to tomorrow as it is.” Certain that her expression would expose the extent of her reluctance, she was grateful she wasn’t facing him.

“It’s not fair.” His voice dulled. “God sends me an angel, and then just...takes her away.”

“Don’t go blaming God,” she sighed, rubbing at the tear stains and bits of grass that clung to her cheeks. “I messed up. You would have been better off if I’d just gone home instead of—”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Vince interrupted, his voice low with finality. “Meeting you is one of the best things that ever happened to me. Even if this is all the time I’ll ever have with you.”

Angie looked back over her shoulder to read the sincerity in his face, but her skepticism remained.

Vince seemed to struggle for words. “I’ve always felt like I have to put on different masks for people—be who they want me to be. With you, I don’t have to think about it. I just…am. And somehow, you like me anyway.”

“If that’s true, how can I even be sure who you are?” she asked, reflecting on the coolness of his demeanor their first day together. She diverted her gaze to stare up at the dimming sky. “You’ve been acting so differently the last few days—”

“That’s because the last few days, I’ve been myself,” Vince said, tone lightening. “If I seemed different than when you first got here, it was because I was just…trying to impress you.”

She turned her head and cut her eyes back toward him again, incredulous. “How was acting like an egocentric jerk supposed to impress me?”

“I don’t know.” He looked away, pausing at length. “When I first saw you at that gas station, I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were in person. I freaked out.” Vince gave an uneasy smile with the admission. “You remember how I left you up front and went to the bathroom?”

Angie stared at him in confusion. “Yes—”
He thinks I’m beautiful?

She held onto his words, a bubbling sense of giddiness eroding her resolve. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more feminine.

“Yeah, I actually went to go look in the mirror and give myself a pep talk.” He emitted a weak chuckle. “I started out trying to be something I thought you would want. Aren’t good girls supposed to like bad boys?”

Angie considered his presumption, reminded of Scott for a brief moment. “Well, not this girl.” She smirked, not daring to look at Vince again. She couldn’t let him see how much his honesty was affecting her. Part of her wanted to keep him...even if that part was so obviously short-sighted.

Make a clean break.

Vince cleared his throat, seeming to work up his nerve. “You still don’t think you can give this...us...a chance?”

“I think,” Angie began, buying herself time to choose her words. She had hurt him enough with her selfishness mixed signals — the least she could do now was have the mercy to uphold her decision. “When you truly care about someone, you want the best for them. Even if ‘the best’ doesn’t include you.”

At that, Vince was silent.

 

 

Chapter 28

 

 

July 24
,

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