Page 25 of A Vine Mess
“Bridge toll,” he said, indicating the line of booths ahead blocking our entrance into the Upper Peninsula.
Flipping the faded brown leather open, I rifled through until I found the compartment where he kept his cash. I withdrew four ones and handed them over as he pulled up to the toll booth, but his conversation with the attendant faded away as my curiosity got the better of me in the form of studying his driver’s license.
“Oh my god,” I yelped as the gate opened and we passed through.
I startled Liam, who accidentally jerked the van to the side, eliciting a honked horn and a few choice hand gestures from the driver of a nearby vehicle. “What the fuck?” he breathed.
“Sorry,” I offered with a sheepish grin. “It’s just…your name is William.”
Liam released a deep sigh and shook his head disbelievingly. “I’m aware.”
“But you go by Liam.”
He cut his eyes to me then back to the road, navigating us onto an exit toward a town called St. Ignace. “Are you okay? Why are you stating the obvious?”
I let out a nervous giggle, surprised he wasn’t mad I’d been rifling through his shit. “I’ve just never heard anyone named William go by Liam as a nickname before. It’s always Will or Bill.”
Liam shrugged but didn’t respond as he turned into a gas station and pulled up to a pump. He got out, then turned to me.
“Are you done holding my wallet hostage, or can I have my credit card?”
Instead of answering, I withdrew my own credit card and handed it over.
“No,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. God, the stance should be illegal for him, all bulging biceps, black shirt clinging to his abs, chest puffed out and really testing the limits of that tee.
Secretly, I hoped one of our adventures on this trip would have an opportunity for swimming, because I needed to see this man shirtless like I needed to breathe, if only to add it to my mental spank bank.
“What do you mean,no?” I asked.
“I mean,no, you’re not paying.”
“What did I tell you about letting me make my own choices on this trip?”
“That was about fucking sleeping arrangements, not putting gas in the car.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the two are one and the same.”
“Ella.”
“William.”
A grumble emanated from his chest, and he uncrossed his arms to rest them in the upper door frame, leaning forward and staring me down.
I had to hand it to him, the man could be menacing when he wanted to be. His size alone was intimidating enough. But he was fucking with the wrong girl if he thought I’d fold that easily.
Delatou women were a stubborn breed; he should’ve known that by now.
Ultimately, I settled the stalemate—that Liam would have lost, obviously—by getting out of the car, rushing around to the pump, and sliding my card into the slot before Liam had time to react.
“You little shit.”
I did the mature thing and stuck my tongue out before turning my attention to the prompts on the dirty screen. Once my card was safely back in my possession, I lifted the nozzle and put it in the tank.
“You’re welcome,” I said, giving him my most winning smile.
“That’s the last time you’re paying to gas this thing up,” he replied. “Don’t get used to it.”
“How come you don’t go by Will or Bill?” I asked, ignoring his comments altogether.
