Cross Country Christmas

"Okay. I'd offer to drive, but I'm not sure I'd be able to fit behind that steering wheel," he said sardonically. "Maybe if there's an Enterprise in town we can look into trading this thing for something bigger in the morning."



"I'm okay driving," I said, yawning again. Once the yawns started, there was no stopping. "I drive all the time for work," I added.



"You're some kind of chef, right?" he asked, draping his arm across the back of my seat. If there was something that would wake me up, that was it.



"Um, yeah, but I run a cooking blog," I said, shifting uncomfortably. Grant acted like he didn't notice and continued to talk.



"That's cool. What's your blog called?"



I mumbled the title under my breath.



"Sorry, can you repeat that?" he asked, sounding amused.



"Cooking for Love."



He chuckled. "Still hung up on that whole love thing, I see," he observed.



I flushed slightly. I knew my reasons for leaving Woodfalls were common knowledge. I couldn't expect anything less from our small town. "What's wrong with wanting love?" I asked defensively as I maneuvered around a semi-truck that seemed to be having a hard time staying in its own lane. As we passed, I could see the driver was texting on his phone. What an idiot.



"There's nothing wrong with love. You've just always been a bit obsessive about it."



"Obsessive?" I asked in a slightly raised voice that bounced off the tight quarters of the vehicle. "I don't see anything wrong with wanting to find my soul mate," I argued.



His laughter boomed through the vehicle. "Did you say soul mate?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.



"What's wrong with that?" I bristled.



"It's just so cliché, believing there's only one perfect person out there for you. True love is a give-and-take relationship that takes years to perfect," he stated.



"Well, thank you, Dr. Phil. Are you a love therapist now?" I snapped. My faith that my perfect match was somewhere out there had been keeping me going for so long. It was the whole reason I traveled so much for my job. I have this fantasy of walking into a romantic restaurant and waiting at the bar for my table. The bartender sets down a glass of red wine and points to a tall, dark and handsome gentleman at the other end of the bar who raises his glass when I look in his direction. He walks over confidently and introduces himself. The connection is instantaneous. We have dinner together and talk all night long until we share the most passionate kiss ever as the sun rises in the horizon and we have our happily ever after. It could happen.



"Nope. I read it on the back of a cereal box," he quipped. I elbowed him in his ribs, but he deserved it. I hated that I was always the butt of his jokes.



"Hey, kidding. I learned it from watching my parents all these years. They love each other deeply, but that's because they're willing to put the work into their relationship. You can't just expect to have some love fairy wave her magic wand and poof, you've met your soul mate," he said sarcastically. He removed his arm from the back of my seat and I couldn't help feeling like he was mad at me or something, which was utterly ridiculous. If anyone should be pissed it was me.



I stewed on his words, not saying anything for the next ten miles. When another billboard appeared declaring we were two miles from our gas needs (their words, not mine), I let out a small sigh of relief. I was ready to get out of the car and put some space between us. I had no idea how I was going to handle the rest of the trip when the first hour had pretty much done me in.



Grant must have felt the same since he looked relieved when our exit came into view. Merging onto the off-ramp, I followed the signs to the only hotel in the area.



"Roach motel, anyone?" Grant said as I pulled into the parking lot that was in dire need of some repairs, but seemed to be the least of their problems. The office had an illuminated sign, but the first few letters were burned out, so all it said was "fice."



"Are we sure it hasn't been condemned?" I said with dismay. I was by no means a snob, but I did expect a certain degree of cleanliness when I stayed in a hotel. Hopefully, it had fresh sheets and towels and clean floors, and not to knock this place any more, but I would prefer it if the night manager wasn't picking his nose as we walked in the front door.



"You folks like a room?" he asked, chewing on his thumbnail that had just been in his nose. Double gag.



"Are there any other hotels in the area?" I asked hopefully as Grant snickered.



"No, ma'am. We here have the only accommodations in a twenty-mile radius," he said proudly, spitting a section of his nail off to the side.



"Charming," I replied.



"Two rooms," Grant said, stepping in before I had the chance to say anything more.



"Two? I thought you two were together," he said, looking at me with a whole new level of interest.



"We are," Grant glared at him. "We'd like our rooms to be adjoining," he added.



The clerk shrugged his shoulders after eyeing me up and down one last time before giving us our total. My skin crawled, but I ignored him as I paid for both rooms. Grant tried to intervene, but I reminded him that he had paid for the car. With one last wink from Mr. Nose Picker, I grabbed our two room keys and walked out of the office. Grant stood for a moment with his fist clenched before turning around to follow me out.



"Bit of a creep, huh?" I said as I climbed back into the car to drive us to the end of the building where our rooms were located.



"Dickhead is more like it," Grant answered.



As we climbed from the car and grabbed our bags, I was almost thankful it was so dark outside. If I saw the building in the harsh light of day, I'm not sure I could have forced myself to stay.



Grant waited beside me while I slid the key into the lock and twisted the handle. The strong stench of old mildewed carpet assaulted my senses when I pushed the door open. Reaching a hand along the wall, I found the light switch and turned it on. Swallowing hard, I stepped into the room, which was far worse than I imagined. The carpet was worn with the concrete floor exposed in several areas. What there was of carpet was stained. By what, I didn't even want to think about. The walls that were once white were a dingy yellow from years of neglect and cigarette smoke discoloration. There was a bed and a small dresser with a broken leg that made it wobble when you touched it.



"I'm in hell," I mumbled, walking farther into the room. I was afraid to touch anything else and didn't know how I was going to manage sleeping here.



"Well, that's not true. If it was hell, it wouldn't be this damn cold," Grant said, walking over to my thermostat to adjust the heat. A groaning noise moved through the wall, but thankfully a blast of warm air blew through the vent. "I guess I better go check if mine is any better," he added, opening the door that adjoined our rooms. The second door was warped and didn't close completely.



"I guess it's a good thing you're the one in the room adjacent to mine," I said sarcastically as he pushed the warped door open, which creaked loudly.



"On a positive note, you can rest well knowing I can't sneak up on you," he said, making the door squeak again as he walked into his room.



I circled around again to take in the room, unsure of what I wanted to do. I was dead tired, but my day of travel had left me feeling frumpy and dirty. Standing in the middle of my disgusting room wasn't helping matters. Still holding my bag, I stripped off the comforter that looked like it hadn't been washed in a decade. The sheets looked marginally better. After giving them a quick inspection, I figured they would have to do. I placed my bag and purse on the middle of the bed and headed to the bathroom with a pair of socks and my bathroom bag in hand. I paused along the way to close the door that separated our adjoining rooms.



I showered quickly, in part because I could barely keep my eyes open, but mostly because the hot water worked about as well as everything else at the motel. Drying off, I pulled on my socks, since there was no way I was walking on the floor with bare feet. The towels were small and barely wrapped around my torso. I had to admit, as tired as I felt, the bed suddenly didn't look as bad as it had a few minutes ago. I decided to lie down for a minute to see how the mattress felt. My intention was to get back up and put on some pajamas, but before I knew it, my eyes closed and I was out.



***



I was having one of those half in-half out kinds of dreams when a tickling sensation on my leg caused me to stir. I tried to ignore it, not wanting to wake up. It was only when the tickling moved up my leg that my mind sprang to awareness. With speed that would make a track star envious, I leaped from the bed, screaming bloody murder. Swatting at my thigh, I knocked the biggest bug I had ever seen from my body just as Grant charged into my room. He looked like a wild man ready for action with a lamp clutched in his hand. Despite my bug phobia, it didn't escape my notice that Grant was wearing nothing but boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. It was at that moment that I remembered I had neglected to put on pajamas before I fell asleep. My eyes met Grant's as he came to two obvious conclusions at once. One—I wasn't being attacked by some mass murderer, and two—I was standing in the middle of the room stark naked with the exception of my Care Bears socks.



Chapter 5



Grant's eyes drifted from my face down to my very naked body. Grabbing the towel at my feet, I hastily wrapped it around my torso, which didn't cover much since the towel was intended for a child.



"What the hell are you doing? Don't look!" I yelled while attempting to cover all the important areas.



Grant's expression sparkled with a mixture of amusement and desire. My knees suddenly felt weak as a flush tinted my cheeks.



"I thought someone was murdering you," he laughed, dragging his eyes away from my breasts, which could still be seen through my clenched fists that were trying to hold up the towel.



"It was a bug," I screeched as the offending insect crawled across the floor. Without any thought of the consequences, I flew across the room into Grant's arms.



Perhaps it would have been erotic if I wasn't trying to climb him like a monkey.



"As nice as it feels to have you...wrapped around me, if you want me to kill your little friend, you're going to have to let go," he said in strained voice. Releasing him self-consciously, I realized I had stepped over the line. He was seeing someone. Sure, he had been nice to me all day, and at times even flirty, but that was probably just me trying to fabricate something that wasn't there. It didn't help the situation to think about how good his rock-hard bare chest felt pressed against mine, or how low his boxers fit on his hips.



"Sorry," I said, untangling my arms from around his neck. I stepped away from him as he picked up one of my boots and held it in the air. "Wait, don't use my boot," I pleaded, but I was too late. The crunching sound made me grimace even though I was glad the bug was gone.



"Nice socks," he said, wiping the sole of my boot on the carpet.



"Thanks," I squeaked. He walked to my bathroom and came back a moment later with a wad of toilet paper. I wanted to gag when he scooped up the dead bug carcass and flushed it down the toilet. My heart rate returned to normal now that the threat was gone. Of course, the fact that Grant had not only seen my goods, but that I had also thrown myself into his arms like some damsel in distress was still hanging out there. No pun intended to myself. I pawed through my bag and found my PJ shorts and sleeping shirt before heading to the bathroom. For future reference, I will make sure I get dressed before going to sleep from now on.



After a pity party that abruptly ended when I saw another bug crawl out from under the sink, I left the bathroom. We were literally in the roach hell motel.



Grant was still standing in the doorway of our adjoining rooms looking at me like I had been dipping in spiked eggnog.



"What? I hate bugs. Okay?" I said, surveying the room like I expected an army of roaches to appear at any moment to drag me away.



"I'm just disappointed you decided to put on some clothes. That'll take half the fun out of coming back in here if you see another one," he said, dropping my boot and heading back to his room.



"Glad you enjoyed the show," I said, playing along, although my adrenaline was rushing through my veins.



When I was able to clear the image of his six-pack from my mind, I looked around at all the possible places a bug could hide. I debated going to the car to sleep, but the thought of freezing my butt off held me back. This was officially shaping up to be the worst holiday season ever. I should have followed my instincts and opted for a sandy beach instead. It was too late to cry over spilled milk, so I came up with a plan where I could hopefully get a little sleep. I started off by pulling the bed away from the wall. Thankfully it wasn't bolted down like everything else in the room. Once the bed was as far away from the walls as I could get it, I stripped it to make sure there were no more unwanted guests hiding in the sheets. After shaking them out, I replaced the fitted sheet on the bed and wrapped the remaining sheet around my body papoose style so nothing could crawl up my bare legs again. Only after I tucked my head under the sheet did I feel somewhat safe from any more creepy crawlies. I left the light on and fell into an uneasy sleep that involved dreams with naked chests covered in bugs.



Scratching noises on the ceiling above woke me the next morning as I emerged from the safety of my sheet cocoon. I pulled my head out in time to see two roaches scurrying across the ceiling right toward the bed. Biting back a screech, I jumped off my bed, not thinking about the sheet that was tightly wrapped around my body. Twice in two days I found myself flat on my back with the breath knocked out of my lungs. Hell. If this wasn't Christmas hell, I don't know what was.



"I'm not sure I would have picked the floor to sleep on," Grant said as his face came into view. "It looks a little rough down there."



"Bite me," I wheezed, struggling to my feet. One thing was clear; I couldn't have done a better job wrapping myself in the sheet. With it tangled around my legs, I pitched forward, landing directly in Grant's arms.



"You've gotten pretty forward with age," Grant teased, wrapping his hands around my biceps to steady me. "I mean, biting you doesn't sound like that bad of an idea, but we should probably build up to that."



"Very funny," I snapped. It was aggravating that I couldn't seem to get my act together when he was around. When I finally managed to untangle the sheet from my legs, I threw it across the room in a fit of anger. It fluttered harmlessly to the floor, taking the oomph out of my action.