by Hailey North
“Thank you,” she said, “but I can do it—“
“Enough of that,” he said before she could finish her sentence. “You’re driving. Consider me your willing road assistant.”
“Well, thank you,” she said. Sami pulled into the passing lane and concentrated on passing a Fed-Ex truck hauling not one but three trailers. After she’d pulled in front of the truck, she said, “How do you usually pass your time on a long drive?”
“Behind the wheel,” he said, a stubborn edge to his voice.
“Not today,” she said. “We could play the alphabet game.”
He looked a question at her.
“You look for the letters of the alphabet on road signs. In alpha order. First one to Z wins.”
“How about some music instead?” He asked, pulling out his phone.
“Okay,” Sami said. Music would mean she wouldn’t have to talk. And talking with Flynn was as confusing as the times he touched her. Normally she had trouble carrying on a conversation. That’s why she worked so hard on research before any of her second dates. But with Flynn, one thing flowed to the next, sometimes in surprising ways.
Flynn was swiping through his phone, whistling under his breath. He paused, but without looking over at her, said, “If not sweet, what adjectives do your friends use about you?”
Sami tapped her fingers on the wheel. “That’s an easy question,” she said. “Intelligent. Purposeful. Determined. Capable. Resourceful. Accomplished.” She smiled, feeling like the student who’d answered all the test questions correctly. “What about your friends? How do they describe you?”
“The ones who know me or the ones who claim to know me?”
“Wow,” Sami said. “That’s an interesting question.”
“In my world,” Flynn said, “there are a lot of the latter types. It’s just business.”
“What about Cameron Scott?” Sami slowed along with the rest of the traffic rather than racing around the slower moving cars. “What three attributes would he ascribe to you?”
Flynn sighed. “For a moment you were speaking regular people’s English.”
“Okay. Okay.” Sami tried to see what was causing the traffic slow down. “Three adjectives from Cam. Describing you.”
He flashed a grin. “Much better.”
Sami warmed just enough to know his compliment meant more to her than it should. This man had been thrust on her as a driving companion. In seven hours they’d be in Nashville and that would be that. But she was curious how he would respond to her question about Cameron. The star—and it was hard to think of him in those terms once she’d seen him grilling burgers like any suburban dad—obviously knew Flynn well. She’d seen how easy Flynn and Cameron were around one another and how beloved he was by the two children. “Don’t overthink it,” she said, when he kept fiddling with his phone and not answering.
“Loyal. Generous. Sadly adolescent.”
Sami thought of correcting him. He had, after all, used four words. But the last response intrigued her. “He thinks you refuse to grow up?”
Flynn shrugged. “Cam wants his friends to have what he has. Can’t blame the guy. But his life’s not for me. Other than that difference of opinion, we’re the best of friends.” He reached for the controls of the media center. “It pretty much broke my heart when my best buddy quit playing the field with me. We had some good times together. But Jonni’s special, so, I can see why he hung up his jock strap. So to speak.” He connected his phone. “This band is the one I mentioned last night. See what you think.”
Sami nodded. Flynn obviously considered their topic of conversation finished. Or off limits. She couldn’t blame him. Who wanted to discuss one’s obvious shortcomings? Certainly she preferred not to dwell on the internal demons that demanded she achieve relentless perfectionism. The music started and she blinked in surprise. She’d expected hard-driving rock.
Instead, a soulful chorus of male voices filled the space, softly chanting, then swelling in volume and increasing in tempo. A drummer and then what sounded like a bagpiper joined in. Flynn kept rhythm with his fine fingers tapping his right thigh. A female singer joined in and Sami made out enough of the lyrics to tell the song was the story of what else but love lost and found and lost again.
The traffic sped up. The song wound down.
“What do you think?” Flynn asked, hitting pause and turned toward her, an expectant look on his face.
“Beautifully trained voices,” Sami said, picking through her reactions. “The bagpipe was unexpected. A bit jarring at first, but then the thread it wove through the song seemed exactly right. The lyrics told a story, and though I prefer a happy ending, the female singer’s pitch was so perfect and the voice so compelling I believed every single note.”
Flynn was staring at her. Not saying a word, just gazing at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. Or maybe a third.
“What?” Sami knew she sounded annoyed. He’d asked what she thought and she’d told him.
“You are amazing,” Flynn said. “Unbelievably amazing.”
“Oh,” Sami said, feeling that wash of warmth again, much stronger and headier this time. “Thank you. I think.”
“You listened. Really listened.”
“That is what you asked me to do,” Sami pointed out, pulling out to pass yet another strung-together FedEx truck.
“And I guess you always do what the teacher says,” Flynn said, but not in a disagreeable way.
Sami nodded. “By the way, we’re almost to the first rest stop. We need to walk the dogs and give them their sausage biscuit.” She raced around the truck she’d been passing and veered off onto the exit, an exit she’d almost missed thanks to the discussion over the song.
Flynn grabbed the arm rest with one hand. “Thanks for the advance notice,” he said. “But seriously, most people, you ask them what they think of a song and they say ‘nice,’ or ‘I liked it’ or ‘ick’ or ‘it sucks.’” He let go of his grip. “What’s your music background?”
Sami shrugged. “The usual. Piano. Voice. Violin.” She’d hated the hours she’d been forced to practice. The music she enjoyed, but her parents drilled all the joy out of it. She shook her head. What was the point in remembering? “Are you going to represent this group?”
“I think so.” He reached for the bag by his feet. “I could eat another breakfast. Is there food at this stop?”
“Machines,” Sami said. “I guess one of the dogs would share a biscuit with you, but it’s up to you to ask.” She hid a grin and cast him a sideways glance.
“Heap on the guilt,” Flynn said, grinning back at her.
Sami pulled into the rest area. Several other cars were in the parking lot, with a number of men, women and children making their way to and from the restrooms. Normally, if she needed a stop for herself, she’d wait until she saw another dog person and ask him or her to hang onto her leashes. She’d never once had a problem, and ignored her parents’ or anyone else’s comments that she had turned out to be far too trusting of strangers. Her dogs, too, were trained to stay where she left them waiting. The Corgi, though, hadn’t learned, despite her efforts, to control any of her impulsive behaviors. Turning toward Flynn, she said, “Would you hold the Corgi’s leash?”
He nodded. “Sure. I’ll explain to Ruby that I’m her personal manager and she’ll do whatever I say.”
Sami laughed. “Is that how you handle your clients?”
Flynn wagged a finger at her. “Oh, no, you’re not about to start trying to learn my profession.”
Sami couldn’t help a bit of a pout. “I was only asking a question. Out of curiosity.”
Flynn started reaching for the door. “When you do that thing with your lips, it’s tough to remember I’ve sworn off seduction for seven endless days.”
“What?” She pushed her lips into an ‘O’ and leaned across the console. She knew her shirt covered little and her bikini top did nothing to hide her assets.
He groaned
. “You play so not fair.”
Sami shrugged. “It’s the challenge,” she said. “I’m programmed to win no matter what I do, so even though I know in my frontal lobe that acting seductive and sexy in relation to your presence and in an attempt to manipulate your masculine stimulus-response is totally uncalled for and will produce nothing but errant results—“
He covered her mouth with his hand. Pulled her close so that she leaned over the console and against his chest. Tugged away his hand. Lowered his head and claimed her mouth.
Sami gasped and he took full advantage. His tongue danced with hers and she moaned, pushing closer. She was on fire. She was…no, she was playing with fire.
She yanked away and shoved her hands against his chest. Her breasts rose and fell with the heated rhythm of her pulse. “Oh, no,” she said. With fingers that trembled, she fastened every button she’d freed, up to the collar.
“Sorry,” Flynn said, lifting his hands in a surrender gesture. “When you get your sentences all wound up the only way I know how to get you to take a breath is to kiss you.” His chest was doing its own up and down dance.
Sami tucked her hair behind one ear. “I knew exactly the point I was making.”
He grinned. “Confess. You were taking forever to admit you enjoy driving me crazy so you can win.”
Rusty woofed and naturally the Corgi had to start barking. Just as well, Sami thought. She needed fresh air. And distance from the annoyingly attractive man she was stuck in the car with for the rest of the day. Without answering Flynn, she opened her door, released the Lab and the beagle from their harnesses, secured their leashes and let them climb out of the car. Flynn did the same with the Corgi, who seemed to recognize his leadership role, as she hopped out with less noisemaking than normal.
As soon as the dogs had done their business, Sami unwrapped the sausage biscuits. She tossed the bread back into the sack and offered each dog a sausage.
“Low-carb dogs?” Flynn asked.
Sami opened her mouth. Closed it. She’d been about to launch into a precise explanation of the study she’d performed that led her to her feeding guidelines. But she wouldn’t put it past Flynn to try to kiss her again.
And she’d had enough of his kisses.
They were like ice cream. Entirely too, too delicious to be good for her.
She stuck to a simple sentence. “Would you like the bread?”
“No, thanks.” He pointed to the building. “Gonna hit up the junk machines.”
Sami held out her hand. “I’ll hold Ruby.”
He shook his head and held out his free hand. “Ladies first. I’ll walk these guys while you go powder that pretty nose of yours.”
She started to protest.
“Shh,” Flynn said. “Please.”
She gave him the leashes. “I will return promptly.”
He winked.
Sami walked briskly toward the restrooms. She had a feeling Flynn was standing there watching her. Why, she couldn’t say. But just in case, she slowed her steps and added a hint of a sway to her hip motion. Crazy man. Kissing her to shorten her sentences. Who thought like that?
The minx was playing him. Flynn almost laughed out loud as he viewed her sexing up her stride. One thing was for sure—he was enjoying this trip to Nashville far better than he would have had he followed his original plan to sneak out of Sami’s and head to the New Orleans airport. He supposed he could thank the Corgi for knocking him over, the dog that right this minute was dragging him in a wild dash back toward where the car was parked.
Flynn and the other dogs kept pace with the short-legged beast. He hated to admit it but his head was killing him.
Sami came dashing up. “You shouldn’t be running,” she said. “You are not a compliant patient.” She tugged the three leashes from his hand.
“Tell that to the bark monster.” Flynn ran a hand over his forehead. “Just what was it about that dog that made you fall in love with her?”
She bent over the dog and ran a hand over its head. “Sweet Ruby,” she said. “Ruby has had a hard life, but it’s all going to be better now.” Sami rose. “Ruby was kept in a cage and forced to breed for a puppy mill. You’d be a bit wild, too, if you were finally free to gambol and cavort and dash this way and that.” She looked away.
Flynn could see tears glistening on her lashes. Gorgeous silky lashes. He glanced at the Corgi, who was sitting on her haunches gazing up at Sami as if she were the best thing since sausage biscuit. Maybe even better. “You have a good heart,” he said. And even as he said the words, he realized he meant them. No flirting or fooling around or running his mouth to score points with a babe.
“Thanks,” she said, sounding distracted. “Your turn to hit the facilities.”
Flynn opened his mouth to add to his comment, and then changed his mind. What did it matter to Dr. Sami Pepper what he thought of her? She’d rescued the Corgi for her own reasons, not to make an impression on any one. He walked toward the rest stop building, wondering why a woman with a heart as good as Sami’s tried so hard to impress her dates that she ended up driving them off.
Obviously, she didn’t consider him a dating option. Which probably explained her candor.
Flynn visited the men’s room and headed to the row of vending machines, still musing over the mystery of Sami’s behavior.
He located the peanut M & M’s. Sweet with substance. His hand hovered over the selection knob. Yeah, that fit Sami. The Doritos caught his eye. Nah, too messy. All that orange crud sticking to his fingers wouldn’t do in Sami’s tidy car. And Sami wasn’t messy. He pictured her frilly bedroom. Moved his hand over to the Cookies and Cream. Flynn licked his lips, but the taste had nothing to do with the snacks in the vending machine.
They had everything to do with Sami. She’d taste sweet. He knew that for sure. But she’d also be fiery and hot and teasing.
He groaned. What was wrong with him? He must have hit his head far harder than he realized.
“You gonna take all day?” A gruff voice spoke from beside him.
Flynn jumped. “Uh, sorry.” He pulled out his wallet, retrieved his AmEx and looked for the card reader. Couldn’t find one.
“You gotta use cash. Or change.”
Flynn stepped away. “Go ahead,” he said.
A horn sounded. A dog barked, a bark he was coming to know pretty well.
“Come on,” Sami called. “We need to proceed.”
Flynn loped to the car and leaned in the driver side window. “Machine doesn’t take credit cards. I don’t suppose you—“
She’d already turned and opened the center console. She handed him a tidy Ziploc filled with quarters.
“Thanks,” he said and dashed to the machine.
He punched in a couple of selections, fed the coins in and kept his mind strictly on the calories coming his way.
He had no business thinking of Sami naked, willing, and wanting him. If it happened, he knew he’d take full advantage. And then be on his way.
But Sami wanted more than that. And dammit, she deserved to have her dreams come true.
Flynn jumped into the car, put his purchases on the floor and handed her the bag of change. “Thanks,” he said. After he fastened his seat belt, he said, “I think I’ll sleep for a while.” Without glancing over at Sami, he closed his eyes.
Sami concentrated on merging onto the interstate. Once up to speed, she cast him a look and saw that he had his eyes shut tight. She also noted he was frowning. The stubborn man should have gone to the emergency room. “Good idea. Rest is essential.” Driving in silence would be easier on her. She was perfectly content when it came to keeping herself company. His comment about her having a good heart had unsettled her. Why, she wasn’t sure.
Maybe because he sounded so sincere. She’d pegged him as the womanizer he was proud to be. Finding good points in a man like Flynn was an exercise in wasted mental power. She’d be better served reviewing her plans for her summer research project.
After much reflection and review of other possible projects, Sami had decided to conduct a review of the literature concerning the ethical and philosophical concerns of Artificial Intelligence. The amount of work being done in the scientific arena was truly astounding. She wanted to assess whether the current philosophical research and thinking was keeping pace with the scientific advances.
Sami dwelt on the purpose of the literature review for the next several miles. She named the leaders in the Artificial Intelligence and ethics world; careful not to talk out loud, something she often did on long road trips. The last thing she needed was to awaken Flynn. The longer he slept, the more hours of concentration she could achieve.
She reflected on what she knew of the transhumanist movement and one of its key thinkers, Nick Bostrom.
Flynn stirred. A few gentle snores broke the silence. They were more like puffs of air than belly-ripping snores. The tempo was long, slow, puff, puff. Sami found the sounds rather endearing, the same reaction she had to Shelby when she fell deeply asleep and rendered doggie snores.
Sami resumed her train of thought regarding her research project. Where had she been? Bostrom. Known to the general public as the bestselling author of Superintelligence.
Flynn moaned slightly. He shifted. Yet his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady. And he was smiling.
Whatever he dreamed about must be pleasant.
She’d ask him when he woke up. Now, though, she forced her focus to the traffic and nudged her mind back to Artificial Intelligence.
Being a disciplined individual, Sami spent the next two hours productively occupied. Unfortunately, her sleep deprivation started to catch up with her. Checking her progress, she figured she could make it almost to Birmingham before she’d be forced to pull over for a cat nap. Flynn continued his sweet puffing snores. The steady low tones were lulling her to give in to her drowsiness.
Sami straightened her posture and turned the A/C to blast cold air. She started one of her sure exercises to keep her alert while driving, reciting the Periodic Table of Elements, in order of their atomic weight. She’d reached Cadmium when she realized Flynn’s soft snores had ceased.
