Page 67 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“We’ll get a car,” Nick said. “Drive straight through to Boston.”

“We don’t even know if there’s a place to rent a car in this town.” I added up the time it would have taken us to drive even without the detour. “We’ll never make it.”

He pulled me into his side, pressing his lips to my hair. “We’re going to figure it out, Brit.”

I nodded, trying hard to mainline some of his confidence, but when Meri picked up on the next ring, the tears sprang to my eyes. “It wasn’t my fault,” I blurted.

“What happened?”

I didn’t miss the fact that she sounded less than surprised. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sniffed. “The train hit a tree. Last night.”

“What?” she screeched. “Are you okay?”

I waved a hand at the air. “Yes! Yes. I’m okay. But I’m stuck . . . somewhere in the woods.” My voice cracked and Nick squeezed my shoulder. “Mer, the auction.”

“Oh.Oh.” There was a shuffling on the other line, then she sounded much more alert. “What do you need?”

“It’s a lot to ask.”

“I told you we’d be available for crises,” she said.

I blew out a breath. “I was really hoping I could do this without one of my messes.”

“Brit, this is beyond your control. And that’s what friends are for, okay? What do you need me to do?”

Thankfully, Nick had experience buying properties for his father at auction. I put Meri on speaker and listened as he explained how the bidding worked, who to pay, and what would happen when we won. I’d already paid the money to be allowed to bid, and with my trust clearing, I had enough in my account to cover the total cost in cash. I had to order a bank check made out to the auction house and she could pick it up on the way.

Nick said Meri just needed to hold up the paddle with my number on it. Simple.

Meri wrote it all down and promised she would bring Justin to read over the contracts.

I was still going to make this happen.

I thanked her profusely then hung up, turning to Nick, eyes wide. He took my face in his hands and his smile dried the last of my panic tears. He kissed my forehead. “You did it, sweetheart.”

I pressed my fingers to my pulse. “It feels a little bit like I barely made it out alive.”

“No way. You just had your first crisis as a business owner and you handled it.” He lifted his palm. “You’re badass, Brit.”

I high-fived him with a giggle, my heart pulsing with affection and the unfamiliar warmth of being the object of someone else’s praise. For as long as I could remember I’d had a script of reassurances that I played for myself in my head.You can do this. You’re stronger than you think you are. They’re all wrong about you.

But hearing it from someone else hit differently. Hearing it from Nick felt like being hoisted on someone’s shoulders and ferried through an adoring crowd.

I beamed at him, watched those round cheeks pull upward with the sweetest smile, and a drop in my belly reminded me of something I’d been ignoring. By handling this, I’d solidified my plan to leave him.

I swallowed, the unfairness of it tasting bitter in my throat. It would be fine, I told myself. The drive from Boston to Philly would be nothing after this marathon road trip. It was less than half a day. I could take the train, they were kind of our thing now, and use the travel time to update my blog or edit videos.

Of course I could. I was a badass.

Besides, we had one more night before we had to figure all that out and I was going to make the most of it. I pushed Nick’s bare chest until he fell backward on the bed and I straddled his waist. “Nicky? When we get to town, we’re getting one room again, right?”

His sea-foam green eyes turned stormy. “Absolutely.”

I fell onto his chest and squeezed him. I was going to get my house and an extra night with Nick and I was giddy about both. I’d figure the rest out later.

The train ferried us backward toward a tiny, one-stoplight town where we’d be spending the night. They could only scrounge up a couple of buses to take us from the tracks, so we had to go in shifts. It was after noon by the time Nick and I checked into a little roadside motel.

The exterior left something to be desired, with its gaudy orange doors and the bulbs burned out of the O in “Motel” but the rooms were clean and modern.

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