Frank smiled. “Hang a left when you head out. One mile up on your right, both in the same place.”
Jamie filled the tank and replenished his wallet. He may have hid an extra twenty dollar bill apart from the rest of his cash, but he didn’t think Brynn was in the mood to hear that he’d heeded her ludicrous advice. She hadn’t said anything before they got in the truck. Now it seemed like the window to break the ice was closing. They grabbed coffee, snacks, and cash inside the shop at the gas station before getting on the road, and once they hit the highway, that proverbial window felt sealed shut.
It was a seven-and-a-half hour ride to Holbrook, Arizona, and for seven and a half hours, neither of them said a word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the tires of the truck crackled through the gravel parking lot, Brynn felt the deceleration of the vehicle and roused from one of her many naps.
Never had Brynn Chandler been at a loss for words and certainly not with Jamie Kingston. Yet here they were, travel weary—and for Brynn, heart weary—and silent. An entire day spent together and not a word passed between them. How did they get here? And by here, she didn’t mean parked in front of a kitschy teepee where she was about to spend her last night with Jamie before L.A. No, here meant sitting next to him in the passenger seat of his truck yet knowing he was a million miles away.
“There’re two beds,” he said, the first words to leave his lips since Amarillo. “They don’t have any other vacancies, or I would have gotten you your own.” He motioned with his hand to the structure in front of him. “Is it a teepee or a wigwam? I know it’s the Wigwam Motel, but I think that’s a teepee.”
Brynn let her head fall back against her seat.
“I don’t need my own wigwam. Or teepee. Or whatever it is.”
“You needed your own room last night. I just thought…”
While they’d both become quick experts at pretending the person right next to them didn’t exist, she supposed they couldn’t go on like this for another twenty-four hours.
“Let’s not do this, Jamie. Okay? You’re the one who wanted to sleep on the floor. I left so you wouldn’t have to.” She let out a shaky breath. The only place she’d wanted to be last night was in his arms, and it killed her that he couldn’t see that.
The truck was in park, but he still gripped the wheel like they were driving seventy-five on the open highway.
“Do what?” he asked, the words spoken through gritted teeth, and Brynn’s blood boiled. He was angry? He was angry?
“What are you so pissed about?” she asked him, but he still stared out the windshield. “You’ve made up your mind about how the rest of this trip is going to go. This is what you want, right? Because you sure have a hell of a way of showing it.”
He faced her now, those blue eyes piercing her with an intensity she’d never seen from him.
“I want us to trust each other. I want you to know I’m not going to get scared and run, and I want you to be sure I’m not just your backup plus-one anymore, B. The only way for you to know how you really feel about me is for you to know how you feel about him. Physical distance will give us perspective.”
She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that physical distance is what made her think she needed to chase after a fantasy like Spencer in the first place. That closeness—being with Jamie—showed her what reality could be. But he’d already turned away. With a flick of his wrist, the key was out of the ignition and his door was open.
“I’m starving,” he said. “No food here, but they told me we can order pizza. Pineapple and bacon, if they have it?”
She gave him a weak smile. Jamie was the only one who would eat pineapple and bacon pizza with her, and the fact that he still would—well, that was something.
“Fine,” she said, and they exited the small confines of the truck for the equally small confines of their room at the Wigwam Motel.
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed with minimal yet civil conversation. They were in the same room, yet it felt like Jamie had closed a door between them, eliminating any opening for her to state her case.
Turned out the pizza place did not have pineapple, but she still got her bacon. There was a wall-mounted TV in their small, circular room, and it got basic cable, so she considered that a tiny victory. She found a marathon of Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives on The Food Network, and they both tacitly agreed that would be their evening activity.