Page 9 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

Relief floods me. Not only will we be going to a public place, but I’ll be the one driving. Sam hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him, but I don’t know him. He also doesn’t know me. I wonder if he worries about me kidnapping him? “I don’t mind, but that means you’d be at my mercy.” I plaster on a wicked smirk.

His confident gaze stays fixed on mine. “I think I can handle that.”

The gruffness of his voice makes my breath catch, so I quickly clear my throat and pull out my phone to scroll through my activity list. “Um, there’s a mini-golf place, or we could walk around a park. Worse comes to worst we can always go do laps around the mall.” When he doesn’t laugh, I glance up to find him still staring. “Sam?”

“Oh, uh, right.” He blinks several times. “Any of that sounds good, but I was actually hoping maybe you’d take me to that ice cream place you were raving about.”

“Really?”

He nods. “I mean, I know you already had ice cream today, but it looked really good.”

The huskiness in his voice as his gaze dips to my mouth makes me think he’s not really talking about the ice cream. Heat creeps up my neck. “I’m always up for more ice cream.”

Sam grabs his wallet and phone, and we’re out the door. We don’t talk at all during our jaunt through the hotel, both holding our breath. Once we get outside, we both let our lungs loose and turn to each other with smiles.

“You can’t stand the smell, either?” I ask.

“Who could? I feel bad for the poor employees stuck in there.”

With a chuckle, I lead him to Lisa’s old Honda. “Sorry, it’s not a Mercedes.”

“You’re telling me,” he says as he studies the car. “Are you sure we can make it to the ice cream place?”

I tilt my head from side to side. “I can’t promise anything.”

When Sam’s expression turns skeptical, I laugh. “Just get in.” I hop into the driver’s seat and start the car, making sure to roll all the windows down. “Hope you don’t mind fresh air.”

“Not at all,” he says, buckling his seat belt. “How far is this ice cream place, anyway?”

“A couple of miles.” I turn, giving him a wry look. “Why? Are you itching to get back to your hotel room or something?”

His brow furrows so fast, it’s comical. “Fuck, no. Just wondering how long I have to wait to get my lips on something sweet.”

The depth to his voice returns, and I have to rein myself back in to keep from swooning. I choose to nod instead of speaking as I pull out of the parking lot. If I opened my mouth, an embarrassing chortle, like Goofy’s “ha-yuck,” would probably come out. Silence is better than that.

After a few blocks, Sam breaks the lull. “Do you listen to music?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because the radio is off. I thought maybe you enjoyed your own thoughts better.”

I chuckle. “No, but Lisa and I have differing tastes, and she was the last one to decide on what we were listening to.” I jut my chin at the radio. “Go ahead. Turn it on. I dare you.”

“Ooh, a challenge.” Sam rubs his hands together before pressing the power knob. When the lyrics to “Rock the Boat” by The Hues Corporation come pouring from the speakers, Sam looks at me inquisitively.

“I warned you.”

“Fun.” His tone sounds anything but amused as he presses the knob, basking us in sweet silence once again. “Your friend has…an interesting taste in music.”

“She’s really into oldies, but she goes through phases with the decades. Right now, it’s disco.”

“So, what do you listen to?”

“Honestly, a little of everything.”

“Except disco.”

“I don’t mind it, but I can’t handle it on the same level as Lisa,” I say as I pull into the ice cream parlor parking lot. “One of my favorite bands is Imagine Dragons.”

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