When I looked outside to see if the shadowy clouds that had covered the sun all day had began to release their rain yet (which they had, in spades), I spotted the flashing yellow lights on top of a tow truck. It slowly navigated into the parking lot and stopped a few feet away from the front door. Behind it was a plain-looking sedan, attached to the crane hook on the back.
A man who appeared to be no older than thirty stepped out of the passenger side door of the truck carrying a suitcase that was sleek and business-like, very much unlike the ancient, dented one mother had given me before I left for school. After shouting something to the tow truck driver and giving him a friendly wave, the man quickly walked through the pouring rain and entered the lobby. He disappeared then, probably on his way to meet the friendly lady at the front desk, but my mind lingered on him just the same. Another look at him would be nice, I decided, if only as a harmless mental jab at Hale.
Several minutes passed and the next thing I knew, the man sat down on the other end of the same couch I was in. I discreetly watched him out of the corner of my eye while he fiddled with his things and got comfortable. He had a fine, midnight black suit jacket folded over one arm, which was dotted with wet spots from the downpour. It looked like something a politician might wear along with his plain white dress shirt, but I noticed no flashy tie around his neck.
His short, dark hair was styled carelessly and saturated with rain, but it wasn’t exactly messy. It hung loosely in what appeared to be all the right places. Even after he casually ran his hand through it to brush off some out some of the wetness, it fell right back into a sort of stubborn perfection. His face had been shaved smooth, with only the slightest hint of five o’clock shadow peeking through. Everything about him told me that he wasn’t from this town. Likely, he was just another traveler like me, and from the looks of it, one with a car problem.
Not bad, I thought, taking him in. It wasn’t like I’d never seen a good-looking man in my life, but around here, handsome guys in suits like him were few and far between. My hometown wasn’t much different, either. It was a shame that I could never get Hale to clean up like that. His idea of dressing up is a shirt without holes in it and a new pair of jeans.
The stranger was very relaxed as he checked his cellphone for something. There was no rush about him, not any that he displayed at least, and he set down his suitcase at an angle against the couch between us. He held out his ticket and eyed it carefully, then looked around the small lobby towards the exit gates and hallways that led to elsewhere in the building. Confusion was written all over his face as he again studied the ticket and scratched his head.
When he turned towards me, I quickly averted my eyes and stared back to the television, feigning more interest in Skip Weathersby’s animated five-day forecast than in the handsome stranger I’d been nosily watching.
“Excuse me, miss?”
Was he talking to me? I swallowed hard and decided to keep my eyes on the screen.
“Miss?”
I felt a finger tap softly on my shoulder. When I turned to face him, I felt a tingling warmth crawl into my belly. His eyes were the most incredible shade of deep amber, like a fiery, brown mahogany. The effect was mesmerizing. The hot feeling of blood rushed to my cheeks and I tried to avoid appearing completely dumbstruck.
“Uhm…Yes?”
“Hi.” He smiled and stuck out his hand, offering it to me, and I delicately held on as he gave it a firm shake. The breath I took after he let go was peppered with a vague hint of the man’s cologne; a crisp, intoxicating scent that seemed to vanish before I had completely experienced it.
“I’m Shane.”
God, his voice was so thick and masculine, it was almost like sex. My mind seemed to churn slower as I thought about all the many ways a man like that could wind up in a place like this, talking to me. Although he was possibly only a few years older than I was, he carried an air of confidence that was rare in the men I usually met.
Upon realizing that I was just sitting there, staring rather blankly at the man, I quickly fumbled, “Oh…Kat. My name. W-what everyone calls me, that is. Short for Katherine.”
“Nice to meet you, Kat.” His smile grew even broader as he sensed my struggle. Perhaps he was used to that sort of reaction, because I bet he got it often looking like that. The man held out a flimsy paper ticket boldly stamped with MEDIAN EXPRESS across the front and showed it to me. “I’m hoping you can help me out. Is this where I’m supposed to be?”
I examined the boarding pass and noticed that not only was he riding the same bus, but his seat was Row twelve, seat A. Right next to me. Had the clerk up front put him next to me on purpose? It was a mostly-empty bus, after all, and there would be plenty of open rows. I had to wonder if she was trying to play matchmaker after I told her about Hale or just wanted to give me something nice to look at during the ride. Either way, if I met her again, I’d definitely have to buy her a drink.
“Yeah,” I said, and handed him back the ticket. “You’re actually in the seat next to me. Headed to Wilmington?”
Shane nodded. “I am.” He flapped the ticket against his hand and clicked his tongue. “On a bus. What fun.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Was I knocking it?” He looked up at the ceiling, badly pretending to think really hard about it. Then Shane turned back to me and let out a chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I was.”
“Look on the bright side. At least it has a bathroom so we don’t have to stop every hour.”
“You know, that reminds me of a funny story.” He looked at me again and shrugged. “You’ll probably just think I’m crazy. Nevermind.”
“Everybody’s crazy. There’s nothing on to watch besides the news anyway. Go on, you can’t surprise me.”
“I got stuck in a bathroom on an airplane once.”
“What?” I couldn’t help but smile back at him and do a double take. Was he kidding around? “That sounds…I don’t know…scary and horrible, all at the same time. Not crazy, though.”
“It was. One of the stewards had to kick the door in to get me out. I thought for sure the Sky Marshal was going to taser me and I was sweating bullets. Going back down the aisle to my seat after that was the ultimate walk of shame. You should have seen my face. Everybody probably thought I was a terrorist or a drug smuggler or something.”
Picturing it in my mind was enough. I couldn’t hold it in. A short burst of giggles escaped me and I covered my mouth to stifle them with my hand.
“Laugh it up,” Shane joked, and leaned over in my direction. “Just remember that story on the bus, when you have to go.”
“Oh, I will. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. There’s a lesson in there, all right.”
Shane adjusted in his seat and crossed his ankles nonchalantly. “So, now that you know my most embarrassing secret, tell me about you. What brings a lovely young woman such as yourself to the most awfully decorated bus station this side of the Mississippi?”
I immediately thought of Hale, but blushed at Shane’s compliment. “Huh. It’s a long story.”
“I can tell. Not a lot of people take a bus all the way from the mountains to the coast these days.”
“I was supposed to be getting a ride from someone,” I grumbled. “And they forgot.”
“Someone forgot to pick you up?”
“Or they didn’t care.” I held up both hands and set them back into my lap. “So now I’m going to be riding three hundred odd miles on a bus.”
“Sounds like you’re the one knocking it now.”
“Yeah…guess I am.”
“Hey, look on the bright side-“ Shane started, using my own words before turning his attention to a far window and the large silver and green bus that was pulling into the station. It was enormous, and gaudy, and looked to be carrying at least sixty people on board. The sound of air brakes could be heard hissing all the way through the concrete wall as it rolled to a stop. Rain pummeled against the metallic outer shell and
doused the passengers as the disembarked.
Shane raised one bent finger to his lips and said thoughtfully, “At least you won’t be bored.”
Three
Once the fleet of new arrivals wound their way through the terminal, the overhead address system crackled to life. “Now boardin’. Median Express, number Three-Two-Five. Departing to Raleigh and Wilmington, North Carolina.” It was funny to hear the chipper clerk from up front calling out over the speakers in her informal accent. This part of Watauga might be tucked away from the big city, but that didn’t stop her from trying to make the little bus station have a big city kind of feel to it. The young man who was sweeping shot a frustrated look at the wet, muddy tracks on the floor the arrivals had left behind and traded his broom in for a mop. Some things were the same no matter where you went.
I stepped outside, across the short sidewalk platform to the bus, and was silently thankful that there was a large awning to shield me from some of the rain. It was coming down in buckets. Maybe it was a good thing Hale hadn’t come to pick me up after all. I’d never known him to be a careful driver; quite the opposite, really.
“Tickets and luggage,” An older man wearing a blue uniform said bluntly to each person in line. When I got to him, the man took my ticket, punched a hole in it, and slid the single bag I’d brought off to the side and behind his back with everyone else’s. When he handed the ticket back, his grumpy expression seemed to warm in my presence and he tipped his hat.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get that stowed for you. You’re all the way back and on the right.”
I scaled the steps up and into the bus, expecting to find a humid mess. What I found surprised me. The interior of the cabin was a bit old and out of date, but impeccably clean. There was no trace of the previous passengers left behind. It wasn’t hot or uncomfortable either, but it was decorated with the same ugly color scheme as the outside. Once I took my seat I could feel the cool breeze of air conditioning blowing from the roof and down onto me. The whole thing was far nicer than I imaged it would be after seeing the outside. Cheap luxury didn’t come easy. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I pulled my phone from my purse and kicked myself for even checking it. Of course Hale hadn’t called. Certainly I would have heard it ring if he had. I probably wouldn’t have answered it anyway out of spite.
“Sitting in the back with the cool kids, huh?” Shane asked as he came up the aisle and I stuffed my phone away. He placed a small bag into the overhead compartment and looked at me curiously. “I feel like I’m in middle school all over again. Can’t tell you the last time I rode on one of these.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Aren’t you going to sit by the window? I figured you might want it.”
I looked out the glass and into the pouring rain outside. “No, that’s ok. Nothing much to look at out there besides rain, anyway.”
“Alright, then. Squeezing by.”
I leaned back and drew my legs aside as much as I could. As Shane made his way past me to his seat, I couldn’t resist getting a look at his ass. Very nice. Much better than staring at the rain, oh yes.
Shane stretched out as much as he could and watched the few remaining people amble through the line outside. “Seventeen, I think,” he said, and looked over at me.
“What’s that, how many hours it’s going to take us on this trip? God, please don’t tell me that.”
“No, passengers. That’s how many I counted. Not many people headed East today, looks like.”
“The woman at the counter said as much. Then she told me about a bluegrass concert, like just hearing about it would make me want to stay put.”
“Maybe she’s in the band?” Shane joked. “Which instrument do you think she plays? I’m going to say the mandolin.”
“Banjo, for sure,” I answered. She looked like the banjo type.
Shane peered around the bus. “You’d think more folks would be headed East, though. Bluegrass or not.”
“Makes you wonder how they keep the prices down.”
“Probably by buying green paint no one else wants on discount,” Shane said.
“You might be right.”
“It’s actually fifteen, passengers that is, if you don’t count you and me, but I imagine we’ll be picking up a bunch more in Raleigh.” He said, bumping his knees into the back of the empty chair in front of him and then giving an expression of displeasure. “This is actually a lot like flying. I hope I don’t have a flashback or something.” Then, the displeased look melted away into another sly grin. “Hey Kat, do you think if I asked, the driver would take some of these extra seats out for me?”
“No way,” I said. “That’s an important part of the experience. They don’t want you getting too comfortable or you might miss all the wonderful sights on the trip. Check it out, the majesty of a torrential rain storm.”
“Oh, right. Let’s see…there’s a puddle…there’s another puddle. Wait. Is that a bird?”
“Seagull, I think.”
“What the heck is he eating?” Shane asked.
“A better question is, ‘what is a seagull doing all the way in the mountains?’”
“Now my window’s fogging up!” Shane said and chuckled before wiping his finger across the window and drawing a lop-sided smiley face. “I can see what you mean, Kat. Who’d want to miss out on that?”
Could he tell how upset I was? Or were all the quick smiles and jokes just part of some act? Whatever it was, this perfect stranger was adept at taking my mind off a terrible day. It didn’t hurt that he was drop-dead sexy, either.
“A masterpiece. I didn’t take you for an artist, Shane.”
He shook his head and the grin vanished. “Nothing that glamorous, I’m afraid.”
I leaned back in my seat and consciously ignored the phone in my purse, which was wedged in beside my waist and the armrest. If I managed to not look at it the entire trip, that would be an accomplishment. For a few minutes, Shane and I both sat in silence, watching the last passenger noisily attempt to fit a large plastic bag full of junk into the space above his row. In the end, the driver had to take it for him and place it on a seat far away near the front of the bus.
Shane shook his head and we shared a relived look.
Once he was finished securing the passenger’s bag, the driver shut the doors and grabbed a handheld microphone on a long, spiraling black cord that was built into the dashboard. There was a slight electronic whistling sound, followed by a burst of static and then the driver’s amplified, gruff voice.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, here we go. The time is approximately two-thirty p.m. and the weather conditions in Raleigh and Wilmington are just about as bad as they are here, if not worse. In other words, we can forgo the usual trip through the carwash.” There was a smattering of laughter among the passengers and he continued, still just as unaffectedly gruff, “Total travel time is about seven hours, and we’ll be stopping in Raleigh to de-board, take on more passengers, and refuel. Got it?”
The driver turned back around, plopped inelegantly into his chair, and shifted into gear, which caused the entire bus to shimmy forward. The brakes hissed and the doors clamped shut with a rubbery bang. A few seconds later, we were turning out of the parking lot and leaving the drab little Watauga bus station far behind us.
Five miles outside the county line, Shane leaned over towards me and said, “I’m curious. What is it you think that I do?”
“What? Why do you ask?”
“Well,” he said, pausing to stick a magazine back in the holder in front of him, “You said you didn’t think I was an artist. It just had me wondering what you thought it was I did.”
I examined his pressed shirt again to look for clues. The fit was nearly perfect on him, showcasing his broad chest and rounded shoulders under the thin fabric. He was fit, there was no doubt. I’d seen no pins on the breast pocket of his suit. He certainly didn’t have on any type of name
badge, and didn’t seem the type to wear one. On his right wrist, the sleeve had come up just enough to reveal a shiny silver watch that looked like it cost as much as my tuition. It only added to the idea that he was some sort of elected official.
“I don’t know,” I said, biting my lip.
“Come on, you’re not going to offend me, I promise.”
“A politician?”
Shane tilted back his head and let out a laugh. “Ok, now I am offended.”
“I’m sorry, but you asked, Shane.”
“I’m only kidding. I really just wanted to see what you’d say. Curiosity, I guess. What made you think I was a politician, anyway?” He felt the top of his head, searching. “Do I have horns growing out of my head or something that I can’t see?”
I studied him again. Mmm, those eyes. I could get lost in them. The way he looked back at me made it feel like he was seeing something that no one else ever had. It was exceedingly nice to have the opportunity to let my gaze linger on such a handsome man and not feel weird about it. In fact, it was almost like Shane wanted me to check him out.
“The watch, I guess.”
“This thing?” he twisted his arm around and peered at the watch expectantly. “This cost me ninety-nine dollars at a pawn shop in Tuscadero, Nevada. It looks nice, but right now it’s telling me the time in Greece. Or maybe Japan. Don’t know why I ever bought it, to be honest with you.”
“So what do you do?” I asked.
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be almost as bad as a politician?”
“Ha! I’m not that kind of lawyer, Kat. I practice environmental law for the OCG.”
“Never heard of them.”
“That’s the Office of General Counsel,” Shane said plainly. “We work with the EPA, which I’m sure you’ve heard of before. The Clean Air Act, and all that.”
“Yeah. The government sure likes its acronyms.”
“No kidding,” he replied.
“So you’re heading to Wilmington for a case or something?”
“My job is going after big companies that pollute rivers and kill puppies, stuff like that. There’s one right now, one of the biggest, and they’re tearing things up down there. We’re bringing suit against them.”
Love Lift Me Page 2
