Page 26 of Menace in Vegas

Allie hums happily beside me, sipping her coffee like this is the best day of her life.

She’s fucking annoying. Too chipper. Too smug.

She’s up to something.

Considering she hasn’t stopped smirking at me since we left the airport, I’m guessing that something is making my life as miserable as possible.

The guy behind the counter barely looks up from his phone.

"Got anything bigger than a Barbie car?" I grumble.

He chews his gum slowly. "Only one left."

"Great. We’ll take it."

He slides the keys across the counter.

I snatch them up, storm outside, and stop dead in my tracks.

I blink once.

Twice.

Three times.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Allie bursts out laughing while I die a slow death.

The station wagon is straight out of the movieNational Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.It’s olive green with wood paneling. A long, ugly behemoth of a vehicle.

Allie collapses against the rental office wall, wheezing.

I slowly turn my head, glaring at her.

"Oh. My. God," she gasps, wiping her tears. "This is the greatest day of my life."

I turn my head, staring at the car before looking at the sky, contemplating every fucking decision that led me here.

"Get in the fucking car, Payne," I growl.

She stumbles toward the passenger door, still giggling.

"Connor Byrns, hockey star, road-tripping in the Wagon Queen Family Truckster," she cackles. "I will be telling my grandchildren about this."

I grip the wheel so hard, the leather groans. "This car is an insult to my existence," I mutter.

Allie throws her feet up on the dashboard. "Relax," she purrs, grinning at me. "It’s not that bad."

I glare at her. "This car smells like depression and divorce papers."

She snorts. “I’ve never heard it put that way before.”

I rub my temples. "I need a drink."

She lifts her coffee. "You need therapy."

“Probably.”

---