Instead of answering, I stayed silent and watched the trees pass by, my nausea starting to return now that the horniness wasn’t there to overwhelm the nausea.
“You can be late to something like this if your sister’s been sitting in the driveway for the last hour waiting on us to get there,” I retorted.
He rolled his eyes, not that I could tell that he’d done so.
I, at least, heard the derision in his tone.
“My sister can wait as long as it takes, seeing as I told her not to buy the house in the first place because it was in a flood zone. Then I told her not to wait on getting a driveway because if she did, the whole thing would flood and she’d tear up her yard. Then when she didn’t get the driveway, I told her to get a four wheel drive. Do you know what she got? A two wheel drive Jeep. Who the fuck gets a two wheel drive Jeep?”
I could tell that he really wanted to know, and I didn’t have an answer for him.
The answer was: nobody.
What was the point of a Jeep if it didn’t have four wheel drive?
Not that I’d side with him.
Women needed to side with each other, otherwise men would take over the world.
Or, at least, Michael would get a fat head thinking he was always right.
“She lives out in the boonies, too, which means it’s a drive from wherever I’m at,” he told me as he turned down a dirt road. “And it’s a fixer upper, so I’m there every other weekend, it seems like.”
He wasn’t there every other weekend, which I told him.
“You’re not there every other weekend. Because you’ve been with me for a month now, and I’ve never met her, and you spend your weekends with me,” I told him dryly.
He winked at me, and I felt shivers race down my spine.
But then we hit a pot hole causing the truck to dip down low.
And the nausea welled back up my throat.
“Pull over!” I pleaded, hand going to my mouth.
He read the state I was in quickly with a quick scan of his eyes, and pulled over. Not that it was much.
But it was enough.
He stopped the truck quickly, and I had enough time to throw my door open before I lost the lunch that I’d barely eaten.
My head felt like it was a million times too big as I threw up everything I had in there, then started dry heaving.
I guess Michael was worried about me falling out of the truck because his hand went to the waist band of my skirt to hold on while I violently puked.
Head pounding, I lifted up.
Only to come face to face with a cow.
He was on his side of the fence, but still, the surprise of it all had me squeaking in surprise.
“You okay?” Michael asked.
I turned to him, then back to the cow.
“Yeah, I’m okay now. I’ve been nauseous since breakfast,” I told him.
“Stomach bug?” He asked worriedly.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. We have so many sick people come through the hospital every day that it’s possible. But I haven’t a clue. I just hope it goes the hell away.”
Reluctantly, he let my skirt go, and turned back to face the front of the truck.
“Maybe we should take you home,” he said. “It wouldn’t be good to pass whatever you have to Reggie.”
I waved my hand. “I’ll stay in the car. You’re all the way out here, and I’ll be fine as long as you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. Just don’t spread your cooties to me.”
I snorted, and pulled the door closed, tossing a glance at the cow who looked a little bit sad to see me go.
I leaned my head back against the seat, and closed my eyes as Michael started moving the truck back down the road. At a much slower pace this time.
“I won’t spread my cooties if I can help it,” I laughed.
His hand captured mine, and he held it on top of the middle console for another two miles.
Then he pulled into a…yard.
There wasn’t any driveway.
None at all.
And with all the rain we’d been getting over the past two months, her yard resembled more of a lake rather than a yard.
“She drives a jacked up two wheel drive Jeep…” I said unsurprised. “Why would she lift a two wheel drive?”
Michael burst out laughing.
“Exactly!”
He tried carefully, but the moment he pulled into her yard, his tires sank and started to spin.
“Gonna have to put it in already,” he muttered, doing something on the floorboard that I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t see it because the woman that was coming out of the little brown house was beautiful.
I could clearly tell she was Michael’s sister.
She had the same beautiful brown hair, and even from this distance I could see that her eyes were the same translucent blue.
“She looks just like you,” I observed as he pulled a u-ey in her yard and started to back up.
Mud splattered and slammed against the windows, causing me to laugh at the situation.
I’d been mudding before.
Hell, I was raised in East Texas.
If you hadn’t been mudding, that was because you hadn’t lived here long.
But I hadn’t done it in so long that I’d forgotten the way you slipped and slid.
Mud had zero traction.
It helped that Michael’s truck was so big. And his tires were so mean looking.
He rolled the window down and placed his hand on the window’s ledge while he lined up to his target.
Because he had it backed up to Hannah’s Jeep in no time, and was bailing out before I could ask him if he needed me to do anything.
I was studying the horses across the street when Michael’s voice yelled for me.
“Nikki!”
I stuck my head out the window and turned around until I could see him.
“Yeah?” I asked curiously.
Hannah and Michael were standing close, both of them looking at me.
Michael’s was teasing, and Hannah’s look was calculating.
She was sizing me up.
I waved to him, and she cracked a smile.
“He told me to stay in the truck so I didn’t spread my pukey cooties to you!” I informed her.
Hannah smiled.
“Appreciate that. If I catch it, it’ll mean Reggie will catch it!” She thanked me.
“Are y’all done?” Michael snapped impatiently.
I blinked, but wisely kept my mouth shut.
But I did nod my head.
“Good,” he muttered. “Now get into the driver’s seat and back it up a little more.”
I saluted him, and he narrowed his eyes at me.
Scrambling over the seat, I scooted the seat up to where I could reach the pedals easily, and backed the truck up.
Promptly saturating them both with mud.
I slapped my hand over my mouth.
“I’m sorry!” I yelled.
Michael didn’t laugh, but Hannah did.
Great guffaws that had her doubled over in hilarity.
“Do you want to pull yourself out?” He growled to his sister.
She shook her head and stood up, but she still had streaks running down her face where the tears from her laughing washed the mud away.
“Jeez,” she said, walking to her Jeep’s door. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s right, I’m not.”
I raised my brow at him, but he couldn’t see me because he was busy attaching the chain he’d produced from his toolbox to both vehicles.
I contemplated Michael’s sudden change in demeanor.
He’d done that quite a few times in the month I’d really been spending time with him.
Three instances where all of a sudden his mood would just snap from one extreme to the other.
Going from really happy, to pissed off at the slightest thing in a matter of seconds.
Quite frankly, it was fascinating to witness.
Not that I’d tell him that I found his disease fascinating.
I’d learned to roll with it, though.
I had sisters.
Enough said.
Also, it was easier not to call attention to it and act like nothing was wrong.
That was the fastest way to get him back on track, and I knew he was grateful that I didn’t heckle him about it.
“Alright, Hannah. I want you to give it some gas when you start to feel the tug on the chain, okay?” He confirmed.