Page 33 of Ox

“About ten hours,” Ox said.

I was a bit traumatized from childhood road trips. My father refused to make pit stops because he said they “threw us off our schedule”. Preparing for the long drive ahead, I took a deep, bolstering breath.

“Not a fan of car trips?” Ox gathered, merging onto the interstate.

I told him about my dad being a teacher and how he ran our family vacations with the efficiency, and total lack of spontaneity, of a school field trip. “Needless to say, we weren’t allowed beverages in the car so that there’d be no “unscheduled” bathroom breaks.”

Ox chuckled. “I’m not that strict,” he promised. “Besides, we aren’t making the trip in one go. We’re stopping overnight at my Brother Pipe’s place. He has a cabin in the woods that’s off the grid and is completely self-sufficient.”

Again, the thought of being alone with Ox, uninterrupted and in a cozy, quiet space, sounded freaking amazing. Plus, we’d finally get to finish what we started in my kitchen. At least, that’s what I hoped would happen.

“Are you an only child?” Ox asked then.

“I have a younger brother who just graduated from high school and lives at home with my parents. You?”

“I have two brothers out in Montana where my parents still live.”

I don’t know why, but the image of Ox and his oversized brothers made me straight-up giggle. “Are they as big as you?”

Grinning, Ox shook his head. “Not quite. I might be the youngest, but I outgrew them both by the age of twelve. I think if I’d been my parents’ first kid, they would have stopped at one when they realized how much it would cost to clothe and feed me.”

“I highly doubt that,” I said, leaning back in my seat and getting comfortable.

Ox glanced my way and a single brow rose. “If you’d seen how much I ate when I was a growing boy, you wouldn’t be so certain of that!”

We talked about our families for a little while longer, then moved on to other fun topics like places we visited, and those ones that were on our bucket list. Mine was Italy. Ox’s was to take a cruise to Alaska.

At around noon, we stopped for lunch. True to his word, Ox ate enough for two grown men. Not very hungry, I’d even given him the rest of my grilled cheese. He’d easily disposed of it as though he hadn’t already polished off several plates of his own.

“I take it back,” I said, as we returned to the car. “I think you were right. Your mother and father would have definitely stopped at one child if they’d known how expensive it was to feed you!”

Needingto stretch our legs after so many hours in the car, Ox stopped at a grocery store about thirty miles from our final destination. The cabin we were staying at had a full kitchen, so Ioffered to make a home cooked meal for dinner instead of eating out yet again. It was the least I could do, after everything Ox had done for me.

Wanting something quick and easy, Ox suggested we get steaks, potatoes, salad, and a few other basic supplies. I also picked up a jar of peanut butter, sugar, and some eggs to make a cookie pie that was simple to make and oh so satisfying.

Tossing some vanilla ice cream into the cart, Ox shrugged. “Ice cream goes well with peanut butter.”

He wasn’t wrong.

When we got to the counter, I pulled out my wallet to pay, but Ox plucked it from my hands and deposited it back into my purse. “No way you’re paying for this food, Kayla.”

Frowning, I placed my hand on my cocked hip. “Ox, I said this meal was my treat. You’ve paid for everything since we met. It’s my turn now.”

“My father would kick my ass if he ever found out I’d let you pay for groceries. Plus, you’re in school right now and probably don’t have a penny to waste. I’m paying,” he said, laying down the law.

“Okay,” I relented, “then I’m doing dishes after dinner.”

Ox grinned. “I can live with that.”

The cabin was small but quaint. In fact, it looked like something out of a fairy tale as we pulled into the driveway. “It’s beautiful!” I spoke, as I took in the porch that seemed to wrap around the entire house.

“It is. I come up here a few times a year to hunt deer. It’s always a good time.”

My stomach dipped when I thought of Ox hunting Bambi. But I wasn’t a vegetarian, so I’d be a hypocrite if I had a problem with him directly sourcing his own food instead of buying it at the grocery store.

Ox helped me cart our groceries inside and I immediately set to work on dinner. While I prepped everything, he carried in my overnight bag and began to set up a fire. I loved the idea of having a cozy night in, away from the chaos and fear of what my life had become back in California.

As I worked, I listened to satellite radio on my phone. The moment felt so right, I couldn’t help fantasizing about staying here for a few extra days before getting back on the road. Maybe, if Ox enjoyed himself too, he might be open to the idea after we’d had some time to wind down.