She turned toward the hallway. There was a sort of charge holding her back, keeping her from running, but this time her conscious won the battle. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she whispered. “Do you need anything in there before I go?”
“No.”
She nodded, wishing she could see his expression. To know what he was thinking… but she couldn’t look back. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could resist throwing herself into his arms.
“I’m sorry about what I said in the restaurant. It’s not true.” She forced her hands to her sides, took her large bag off the couch, and went to the bathroom. Pulling in a shuddery breath, she turned the faucet on in the shower, and let herself cry. What was happening to her? She wasn’t sure, but something was changing. Or maybe her doubts about Steven had been there the whole time and she wouldn’t allow herself to feel them. It was as though the wool had been ripped from her eyes, allowing her to see how bright the world was. How many shades of color she’d been missing. And it had taken Tristan to allow her to see them.
17
Chapter Seventeen
Next morning, Patty drove them to meet the mechanic in the middle of the next town. It was smaller than she’d expected, though still quaint and lively for being so early in the morning. People were out on each corner, strolling from flower shop to antique stores too many to count—and bars—she counted at least three as they drove in from the main road.
Patty dropped them off at the corner, where she kept the car running so her babies wouldn’t fret. “Tell Bob that I sent you,” she said. “He’s a good mechanic and won’t send you a on goose chase if he knows you’re with me.” She then gave them each a brief hug, and hopped back into her van without lingering. “Look me up if you ever come back this way. I’ve downright enjoyed your company.”
They both grinned, then grabbed the rest of their belongings from the back of her van before slapping it shut and sending her on her way.
The auto shop was old fashioned, with stacks of tires along the whole fence line. They entered through the back, where Tristan’s Mustang was already on lifts in the middle of the garage. A man in denim coveralls was poking around in a tool chest, and looked up when they entered the building. As he walked toward them, he wiped his hands on what used to be a red rag. “I’m guessing this beauty is yours?” he said, around a mouthful of tobacco. “Haven’t seen a ’67 since I went to a car show in two-thousand.” He reached his hand out to Tristan and gave it a firm shake. “My name’s Bob.”
“Tristan.” Tristan replied, then glanced up to his car above their heads. “I’m hoping you know what’s wrong with her?”
“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “Thing is, there’s some good news and some bad news.” He looked to Samantha, nodding his head in hello. “Good news is, it’s only a bad radiator cap.” He turned back to Tristan. “Bad news is, the nearest I can get one is a two towns over.” He spread his legs wide and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his coveralls. “I’ve already sent one of my guys to get it, but I’m afraid I won’t have the car ready ’til morning.”
Tristan ran a hand through his hair and cringed. “Shit. Are you sure? We’re on our way to a wedding—”
Bob shook his head, cutting him off. “I’m afraid so. I wish there was more I could do. But truth is, y’all are lucky I found one even that close.” He then looked at Samantha. “I can see you’re disappointed ma’am, and it hurts my heart. But there’s a great bed and breakfast just across the road. People come from all over to stay there. Tell them Bob sent you, and they’ll give you a discount on your stay”
Samantha smiled, then turned to Tristan. “Well, I guess that settles it then. We’re staying the night in Colton, Iowa.” She was trying to make the best of the situation, to lower the pressure she could see stiffening Tristan’s shoulders, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He was looking at his cell phone, deep in thought, and there was an odd expression on his face.
He finally excused himself, holding up one finger before walking out of the garage.
Samantha looked down to the ground, to the oil-stained floor, as a weird uncomfortable feeling grew in her stomach. She finally looked back up, thanked Bob for his recommendation of the B&B, then walked in the opposite direction from Tristan, wanting to give him privacy. She sat on the curb in front of the shop, kicked her legs out in front of her, and dug through her purse looking for her cell.
Three notifications waited on her phone. Two of which were from Steven. She punched in her pass code, and began playing the messages.
“Hey babe, I need to talk to you. Call me as soon as you can?”
“Samantha, I really have to talk to you. Call me when you get this, okay?”
Her brows furrowed, and she frowned. What did he need to talk to her about?
The last message was from Renee.
“Hey Sam! Are you and Tris killing each other, yet? This is taking forever, and I’m not even in the car! Call me when you can. Love you! Bye!”
Samantha closed her eyes, leaning back on the pavement to let the sun warm her face. “This is almost over. You’ll see Steven in a couple of days, and everything will go back to normal.”
She sat up again, straightening her back as she dialed Steven’s number. It went straight to voice mail, and she began to leave a message.
“Hey babe,” she began. “You’re probably working, but I wanted to call while I had reception.” She blew out a breath and looked back over her shoulder to the garage. “We ran into some car trouble, unfortunately. It seems we’ll be delayed about a day.” She paused for a moment, her eyes focused on nothingness. “Call me when you can.” She hung up the phone without even saying goodbye.
When she looked up, Tristan was standing above her. His sunglasses were covering his eyes, but the tension couldn’t be hidden from his face. “I guess we should go get some rooms?”
She pushed herself from the pavement, but Tristan grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her up the rest of the way. His grip was firm and strong, yet sent goose bumps to cover the length of her body in a second. “Everything okay?” she asked, searching his face for answers.
He nodded, but immediately looked away. “Yeah. You?” he asked, meeting her eyes once again.
“Yeah,” she whispered. He still looked upset, and all she wanted to do was yank the glasses off his nose and demand that he tell her what was wrong. Why he’d suddenly changed from the easy-going Tristan she’d always known him to be, to this. But in these few short days she’d become closer to him than she was comfortable with. Closer to him than was healthy. She needed to keep her distance, to keep her walls up and not let them fall. “I guess you’re right. We should go get some rooms.”