My eyes narrowed as I opened my mouth to tell her where she could shove her chipper tone. Grant grabbed me by the hand and dragged me away from the counter before I could strangle her with the keys she wore around her neck. "She was about to get choked by that freaking scarf around her neck," I grumbled as we staggered back to the Enterprise counter.
"I thought you were going to put her face through her computer monitor," Grant said, chuckling again.
"That would have worked too," I said, sitting on one of the round couches near the Enterprise counter while Grant collected the keys to our rental. I leaned against the back of the couch, closing my eyes briefly. I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew, Grant was shaking me, looking slightly aggravated.
"What's the matter?" I yawned.
"It would seem their car supply is also depleted," he said, sounding as exasperated as I had felt when we found out there were no hotel rooms available.
"And the hits keep on coming," I muttered under my breath.
Chapter 4
"What does that mean?" I asked, afraid the couch I was sitting on would be my temporary bed for the night. Talk about a colossal sucky day.
"It means we have to take what they have available," he grumbled, striding out of the terminal. This time it was my turn to laugh. I was relieved I wouldn't be sleeping in the airport, but it was pretty hilarious to see the normally easygoing Grant losing his cool.
We boarded the rental car company's shuttle and my laughter quickly turned into one yawn after another. The swaying motion of the shuttle bus combined with the snow falling outside lulled me back into my lethargic state. Something about watching snow dropping from the sky had always given me a warm, cozy feeling. It would have been a perfect time to curl up in bed with a good book and hot chocolate.
The shuttle driver stopped in front of what was literally the only car left on the lot. Teeny tiny would be the best way to describe it. I couldn't help barking out in laughter after finally understanding the source of Grant's aggravation. It wasn't one of those Smart Cars, but it was pretty darn close.
"Not funny," Grant declared, wheeling his suitcase through the snow toward the car that looked smaller and smaller the closer he got to it. "I've seen riding lawn mowers with more room than this thing."
I burst out laughing again. He glared at me for a moment before his frown turned to a smile. Even Grant couldn't help laughing at the irony of the situation. A frigid gust of wind blew across the parking lot, sending a shiver down my body. The soft flakes of snow swirled around, pelting my face.
"Here, can you warm up the car?" he asked, handing me the keys while he stowed the luggage in what was supposed to be the trunk.
Only when I was sitting behind the steering wheel of our micro car did the humor of its size lose its luster. We would be cramped driving five miles in this sardine can. Nine hundred plus miles was going to suck. Even with only two of us in the car, we would be practically on top of each other. This was going to be as close to torture as I had ever come.
"I would have driven," Grant said, shaking the snow off his head as he opened the passenger door.
My eyes focused on the stray lock of hair that fell across his forehead. He had great hair for a guy. It was auburn with a lush fullness that would make most girls jealous. I would be embarrassed to admit how often I had dreamed about running my fingers through it.
I reluctantly forced myself to look away. I could NOT fall for Grant again. He had already unknowingly broken my heart once. I would be wise to remember that. Who cares if we were only thirteen years old? A broken heart was a broken heart. Besides, he aggravated the crap out of me, which meant he wasn't Mr. Right.
Oblivious to the jumbled thoughts in my head, Grant adjusted his seat, sliding it as far back as it would go before he climbed in. Even still, his knees were practically in his lap.
"I feel like I'm on a kiddie ride," he complained, adjusting the incline of the seat to try to gain a little more comfort.
"Make sure to keep your arms and legs in the vehicle at all times," I teased, plugging my phone into the charger so I could use the GPS on my phone without draining the battery. Once I selected "Home" from my favorites list, Mona (the name I gave the robotic voice on my phone), started spouting out directions.
"I figured I'd drive until we hit the next town since Ms. Personality claimed the hotels around here are all booked," I told Grant as I drove away from the airport.
"Sounds good," he said, shifting in his seat as I pulled onto the main road. I drove for less than a mile when I turned my blinker on.
"I hope a drive-thru is okay?" I asked, turning into the parking lot of a popular fast food chain.
"That's fine," he said as I pulled behind a heavy-duty truck that dwarfed our small car. The line moved fast and soon we were back on the road. Grant had the juggling act of passing me my food while trying to eat his own, but neither of us wanted to go inside the restaurant. I started to feel more human after I downed my burger and fries. I switched lanes until I was farthest to the left, which I considered my comfort lane. Like the parking lot at Enterprise, the highway was pretty much empty except for an occasional oversized semi-truck.
"This is comfy," Grant said, stowing our trash in the minuscule backseat. He shifted his legs to a suitable position, which happened to be intimately close to my right leg. I debated moving, but that would have been obvious, and possibly lead to an awkward conversation. Instead, I tried to ignore the voice in my head telling me how good his leg felt against mine.
Neither of us talked as the city lights faded away and the night swallowed our lone vehicle. I kept my eyes on the road ahead of me, afraid if I looked at Grant it would start a conversation. It's not like I didn't want to talk to him. I just felt our current driving arrangement was intimate enough without initiating a conversation in the cloak of darkness. A part of me wished he would go to sleep so I could relax a little.
"Are you okay driving?" he asked, making me jump. In all my deep thoughts of not wanting a conversation, I wasn't ready when he initiated one.
"I'm good for now. I'm hoping we'll find a decent hotel there," I said around a yawn as I pointed to a gas station billboard stating the next exit was in twenty-five miles. Despite how tired I was, I felt I could make it.
"Okay. I'd offer to drive, but I'm not sure I'd be able to fit behind that steering wheel," he said sardonically. "Maybe if there's an Enterprise in town we can look into trading this thing for something bigger in the morning."