Page 6 of Truth or More Truth (Throwback RomComs #3)

five

. . .

“ I t’s your turn now, Bobby Joe,” I say. “Truth or dare?” I really hope he picks truth. I have so many questions I want to ask.

“Dare.”

I should’ve known. “Hmmm. What can I dare you to do that will fully humiliate you?”

“Hey, why does my dare have to be humiliating?”

“Because it’s more fun that way.” I think for a minute. “Ah! I’ve got it.” I do a drumroll on the steering wheel before saying, “I dare you to get a trucker to honk his horn at you.”

“Seriously?” he asks.

“What? It’ll be fun!”

“No self-respecting trucker is going to honk his horn for me. I’m a grown man—not a kid or a pretty lady. I’m not doing it.”

“We’ll just have to hope for a non-self-respecting trucker then, won’t we?”

“You’re going to have to dare me to do something else.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “The dare has been put out into the universe, and therefore, it must be accepted. Those are the rules.”

“Fine.”

I move into the passing lane and speed up so we’re right next to a semi truck. Then I slow down so we’re driving at the same pace.

“Here we go,” I say. “First chance. Go for it, big guy.”

Bobby lets out a giant sigh before closing his right hand into a fist and pumping his arm up and down. I giggle at the sight.

“He didn’t honk,” I say. “Is he looking at you?”

He peers out the window. “Uh, yeah.”

“And?”

“He’s flipping me off.”

I laugh so hard Bobby grabs the wheel to keep us in our lane.

“Pay attention to the road and get around him,” Bobby orders. “I’m afraid of what he might do next.”

Honestly, I am, too, so I do as I’m told.

“Are you really going to make me do that again?” he asks.

“Yep. A dare is a dare.” I point forward. “Here’s another truck up ahead. Get your arm ready, Bobby Joe.”

To my surprise, Bobby stretches and flexes his right arm. I smile as I pull up next to the truck, wondering how many times we’re going to have to do this before he’s successful.

Bobby pumps his fist, and I jump in my seat as the truck’s horn blares three times.

A few seconds later, Bobby yells, “Speed up! Speed up!”

I say, “Why? You were successful! Go, Bobby Joe!”

He turns to fully face me with wide eyes. “Melissa, if you don’t move past this truck right now?—”

I hit the gas before he can articulate the rest of his threat.

“What happened?” I ask as I pass a few more cars. “Why are you so wigged out?”

“Wigged out?”

“Yeah, you’re totally wigged out. Explain yourself.”

“Um, the driver was a woman.”

I smirk. “No wonder she honked.”

“Honking isn’t all she did.”

Now my eyes widen. “What did she do?”

“She flashed me.”

I snort. “And that’s a problem why? Are you not attracted to women?”

“Yes, I’m attracted to women. Just not ones thirty years my senior.”

Once again, I laugh so hard he has to take control of the wheel.

We’re in yet another part of nowhere Illinois when Bobby ejects Paula Abdul and fiddles with the radio to try to find a station that’ll come in clearly. A light snow has begun to fall, and we need a weather update. He finally lands on a station that’s not complete static.

“… receiving heavy snowfall here in southern Illinois. If it hasn’t started yet where you are, get ready.

It’s coming fast and furious. If you don’t need to be on the roads, stay where you are or get home as quickly as possible.

We’ve gotten three inches here in Carbondale in the last two hours, and we’re getting reports of towns in southern Missouri with nearly a foot of snow.

Hunker down, people. And now back to your favorite country music. ”

Bobby turns the volume down as music begins to play, but he doesn’t turn it off, likely so we can hear any further updates.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he states unnecessarily.

“How far are we from Carbondale?” I ask.

He unfolds the Illinois map he picked up at the gas station earlier and asks, “What was the name of the town where we stopped to get gas a bit ago? Any idea?”

“I think it was Mount … something. Sorry. I don’t pay a lot of attention to road signs. I’m the pilot here. You’re the navigator.”

“Mount Vernon?” he asks.

“Yep, that was it. Don’t remember seeing any mountains or presidential homes, though,” I quip.

He ignores my joke as he peruses the map. “Carbondale isn’t directly on the interstate,” he says, “but I’d say we’re about thirty miles northeast of it.”

I sneak a glance at him. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know that there’s much to do other than keep going as long as we can.”

I nod toward the map. “Does it seem like there will be any towns along the interstate with motels or anything?”

“I don’t know. Most of these places look pretty small. But surely some of them have motels for truckers and such, right?”

My eyes widen. “We might have to stop at a trucker motel?”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there to protect you. All my mafia training prepared me for this exact scenario.”

“They get a lot of snowstorms in Italy, do they, Bobby Joe?”

“Hey, lady,” he says in a terrible accent. “I’m in the Russian mafia. Lots of snow in Russia.”

“Lots of truckers, too?” I tease, loving that he’s joking around with me instead of being a jerk.

“You have no idea.”

“What if your lady trucker friend stops at the same motel we do? Or the finger-bird guy?”

“Again,” he says, “mafia training.”

Within minutes, the snow starts falling more heavily, and it begins accumulating along the sides of the road.

“Seriously, Bobby, what are we going to do?”

“Well, the snow’s not piling up on the road yet, so we’re okay for now.”

“But we won’t be for long.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t like this.”

“We can stop if you want to,” he says.

“But it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon. And we need to get to Arkansas.” I can hear the anxiety in my voice.

“We don’t have to get there today,” he says soothingly. Since when is Bobby Jacobs soothing? “And this snow isn’t stopping anytime soon.”

As if on cue, the snowfall increases to where I can’t see more than twenty feet in front of the car. I turn on my hazard lights and slow down, but I’m not sure that’s what I’m supposed to do. What if the people behind me can’t see me and are driving the speed limit? My heart begins to race.

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve never really driven in snow. Not like this—only in the city, with the roads cleared.”

Bobby’s warm hand closes over one of mine on the steering wheel, and heat radiates up my arm at the contact. I focus on his hand for a moment before shifting my attention back to the road.

“Are you scared?” he asks.

I nod .

He squeezes my hand. “We’re going to pull off at the next exit, okay? I’ll guide you.”

“O-okay.”

“We can do this.” He removes his hand from mine, and I suddenly feel cold, even with the car’s heater going full blast.

“How many miles, you think?” I ask.

“Just a few more.”

“Are you sure about that, or are you trying to make me feel better, since I have your life in my hands?”

“Both. We haven’t passed an exit since we heard that weather report a few minutes ago, and there’s an exit about every ten miles.”

“What if there’s not a motel at the next exit?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He’s silent for a few seconds before he asks, “How do you make a handkerchief dance?”

I snort before I can stop it. “What?”

“I’m telling you a joke to help you not be scared. How do you make a handkerchief dance?”

I shake my head, a smile on my face. “I don’t know. How?”

“You put a little boogie in it.”

I risk a quick glance over at him. He’s giving me the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on him, and holy moly if that man doesn’t have a dimple in his left cheek. Where has that been hiding? I want to poke my finger in it, but instead I burst into laughter, and he joins me.

“Got any more of those up your sleeve?” I ask.

“How do you scare a bee?”

I shrug. “Sic a wasp on him?”

“Nope. You say, “Boo, bee!’” He laughs even harder than he did before. “Get it? Boobie?”

I shake my head as I chuckle at him. “Yes, I get it, you goofball. And I also think perhaps you’re a five-year-old boy deep down inside.”

“Maybe I am.”

“You lucky folks got here just in time.” The lady at the front desk of the Elm Tree Motel doesn’t stop chewing her gum as she speaks to us.

Her name tag informs us her name is Wanda.

“Only one room left. This storm’s a doozy.

Phones are already out and I can’t imagine the power will last much longer. ”

“One room?” I squeak out, ignoring everything else she said. I’m still shaking from the last several minutes of our drive. We were in near-whiteout conditions by the time we arrived. I was surprised we were able to see the motel sign.

Bobby must notice my distress, because he gently places an arm around me, and I automatically sink against him, choosing for a moment to forget his penchant for dating multiple women at once and enjoy the feeling of a man’s comforting arm around me for the first time in longer than I care to remember.

“Like I said,” Wanda says, “you’re lucky.”

That wasn’t what I was getting at. If she even tells us there’s only one bed in the room …

“We’ve got a room with two double beds.” She holds up the key and looks between me and Bobby. “Looks like you two lovebirds will only need one, though. Okay if I let the next people through the door share your room?”

“What?”

Wanda chuckles. “Just joshin’ ya, ma’am. I need you to fill out this here form, and we take cash or credit card.”

I dig in my purse for my wallet, but Bobby puts his hand on mine to stop me, pulls out his wallet, and hands the woman a card. “We’ll put it on this card.” He gives me a look that tells me not to argue with him about it.

I won’t argue now, but I will later.

“Your room is out the door and all the way on the end to your right,” Wanda says as she fills out the credit card slip. “Should be able to park right outside your door. Sorry about the snow in the parking lot and on the sidewalks. Ain’t no use trying to keep them clear at this point.”

“Is there anywhere to eat near here?” Bobby asks her as he completes the information card.

“There’s a diner a few blocks down, but I wouldn’t recommend trying to get there while the storm’s raging. My advice is to stay right here and cozy up in your room.” She winks at us. “We got a vending machine in the little alcove with the ice maker just outside.”

Bobby puts the pen down and holds his hand out to the lady. “Thank you, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

Wanda chuckles again and shakes his hand. “It’s my pleasure. You two enjoy your stay, you hear?”

“Oh, we will.” Bobby leads the way to the door. “And we’ll name our firstborn after you, Wanda!”

She chuckles again as I elbow him.

“You do that,” she says. “You do that.”