Page 102 of Side Trip

He reached for Joy’s hand, thinking nothing of it. She laced her fingers with his and the simple gesture felt natural.

“I feel like there should be fireworks or something,” she said.

Something for sure.

“We could kiss.” He waggled his brows.

She laughed. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

He lifted a hand to her face and brought his lips down on hers for a single, sweet kiss. Traffic moved past at an erratic, inner-city pace. Pedestrians cased the sidewalk in a mission destination frenzy. But for a split second Chicago fell away, leaving just him and Joy, an island in the middle of the urban chaos.

“That was nice,” she murmured when he broke off their kiss. He hummed in agreement.

“We’re unconventional, Joy. Historically, people go west on Route 66. We could turn around and chase sunsets.” He was teasing but a glint of possibilities flashed in her eyes.

She placed her palm on his chest, directly over his tattoo. “Always heading west,” she murmured, then bit into her lower lip. “What if we did?” she said in a breathless whisper that set his heart racing.

His gaze narrowed on the sudden urge todo something spontaneous. The last item on Judy’s list.

Whatifthey did? What if ...

He pressed the brake on that train of thought. He gave her a sad face. “London’s calling.”

“I was kidding.” She laughed it off but the spark in her eyes dimmed, and it made him sad. Time to get this ship back on course before he suggest something ludicrous, like move back to California with him.

“Ready?” he asked.

Joy shifted the bouquet she cradled in her arm. Pink roses. Judy’s favorite. The clear plastic wrap crinkled. They’d eaten a late BLT lunch at Lou Mitchell’s, munching on doughnut holes and Milk Duds while they waited in line for over an hour to be seated. Afterward, Joy had purchased the flowers from a street vendor. She laid the bouquet at the base of the light post.

“Someone’s going to swipe this as soon as we leave,” she complained.

Probably. But he figured she’d feel better having done it. He was still reeling from earlier. How in the world had she kept that secret for over eight years? He admired her more now than he had before she’d told him. She had a strength he didn’t possess.

He put his arm around her waist. “Anything you’d like to say about your sister?”

“Yes, a confession.” She moistened her lips. “I was thirteen when I read Judy’s Route 66 Bucket List for the first time. I knew one day that I’d take this trip for her. It only seemed fair, since I took the opportunity away from her. I thought I wouldn’t feel so guilty about what I’d done.”

“Did it work?”

She frowned slightly, pausing to think, then nodded vigorously. “Yes ... yes, it did.” She looked down at Judy’s flowers. “I miss her.”

“I know.” The ache in her voice made his own heart ache. He pulled her close and dropped a kiss on her head.

Joy cleared her throat. “Your turn.”

He dug his hand into his front pocket for the Dunlop he’d stashed there before lunch. He’d used the slate-gray tortoiseshell guitar pick throughout the trip. It seemed appropriate to leave it at the spot where Jack’s professional music journey had started.

Too bad Jack’s Pontiac barely made it to the California-Arizona border. He would have abandoned the heap of junk here and walked away.

He flipped the pick like a coin and tucked it into the bouquet’s plastic wrap so that it wouldn’t be swept away into the gutter. He stared at the pick and thought of what to say about Jack. He frowned. Nothing worthwhile came to mind, no eloquent words or thoughtful phrases. No earth-shattering I-want-to-be-a-rock-star epiphanies.

He shifted on his feet and pursed his lips into a lopsided grimace.

Joy glanced up at him. “What’s wrong?”

He pressed a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say about him.”

“Nothing at all?”

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