Claustrophobic Christmas Read Free

questions?”
    “I’d like to meet this mystery man I never heard about until yesterday.”
    “He’s not sure how long he can stay.” Crap. She was digging herself in too deep. She didn’t have much experience creating imaginary boyfriends, and there was no how-to book on it, either. Now her family would tell his family she hadn’t brought a man home at all. “I may just drop him off.”
    “Where?”
    “His, uh, house? I mean, his family’s house. In Memphis.”
    “He doesn’t want to meet your family?”
    She shrugged, hoping that was sufficiently mysterious.
    “He should make an effort.” James kind of smirked. “I hear you have options.”
    Darcy blushed. If only he knew how ill-suited they were, he wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. “James, you agreed not to—”
    “I know, I know. Sorry.” He pointed at the map, tracing several segments of road where the interstate veered close to bodies of water. “When the ice hits, it's gonna get ugly here, here and here. I hope you and your…boyfriend…have blankets and food because it could to be a long, cold night.”
    She nodded sagely, but inside she shriveled. He was trying to be sociable, share travel tips, and she was lying to him. If anyone understood the desire to share perky travel tips, it was Darcy Burkell, Travel Queen. Maybe she needed Santa to bring her a copy of How to Turn Hot Guys Down Gracefully instead of Little Known Hiking Trails of the Grand Canyon or A Claustrophobic’s Guide to Dallas Without Elevators .
    “I’m set,” she assured him. “I have a boatload of Christmas candy, and I bought a couple drinks from the soda machines.”
    He glanced down at her, an errant lock of dark blond hair lapping across his forehead. “That's a mistake.”
    “But you just told me to—”
    “Don't drink anything.” His tongue flicked the corner of his mouth. “Suck on a piece of hard candy, but don't drink anything till you get near Memphis.”
    She stared at his lips, mesmerized. Was it weird when he said “suck on a piece of hard candy” she heard something else entirely?
    “Why not? Gotta stay hydrated.”
    He appeared to nibble the inside of his cheek before he answered. “I don’t know if I told you, but I used to drive trucks. Long haul. I survived more than a few traffic jams. After a couple hours, certain bodily functions make themselves known. They're a sight easier to handle if you're a man.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Anything a man can do, a woman…wait, do you mean peeing?”
    His lips tightened as he tried not to laugh. “Yes, I mean peeing.”
    Oh God, she’d said peeing to James and he’d said it back. The bathroom was one place their conversations had never extended. Still, no reason for him to be sexist. “Come on. A girl can find a gas station restroom as easily as a guy can.”
    She knew it for a fact. She’d visited every interstate gas station between Dallas and Tallwood in the years she’d been making this trip. Also every rest area, scenic overlook, outlet mall, park and historical marker—basically every justification she could find to escape the car.
    “If there's no exit,” he said with a straight face, “there's no restroom. Just the side of the road and a bunch of bored people watching to see why you're out of your vehicle.”
    “Well. That’s troubling.” She made a mental note to duck back into the restroom and take care of any lingering bodily functions. Also to tout “Don’t drink much until you get there” in her next Travel Queen newsletter. “I wasn’t worried before, but I am now.”
    He laughed and took her hand, squeezing it. “If you know it’s coming, you can prepare to deal with it.”
    Her brain short-circuited when his big hand enclosed her smaller one. She stuttered something agreeable, but what she was really thinking was how she hadn’t been prepared to meet James. Hadn’t been prepared for his sheer physical appeal, for his magnetism, for the fact he thought