Page 7 of Out of Luck in the Outback

Flushing with the thought of another run in with Maddox, I dress better than I normally would for an early morning train ride, choosing a pink sundress with ties at the shoulders. Even though I’m not tan from the Chicago winter, the pink brings out the color of my cheeks, and I pair the dress with matching pink lipstick. I pull my hair down from my bedtime bun and brush through the length, letting it wave naturally down my back. Giving myself a good look in the mirror, I swipe mascara over my lashes as a finishing touch. I may be overdressed, but something about Maddox makes me want to impress him.

When I get down to the front desk, Maddox is talking to a man and a woman in their mid-twenties with medium brown hair and similar bone structure. He smiles when I walk into the room, dragging my luggage behind me, and his eyes float from the crown of my head to the ballet flats on my feet. “Good morning,” he says, his voice husky.

Fuck, just the sound of his voice makes my knees wobble.

My heart flutters in my chest like a caged bird. “Hi,” I say, doing my best to look him up and down without making it obvious. I remind myself he probably has a girlfriend or two, and I don’t need that kind of entanglement on an assignment. “I’m glad I made it on time.”

“This is Maya and Maxwell,” he says, gesturing to the man and woman beside him. “They’re twins and joining us on the train.”

I hold out my hand for the twins and shake their respective hands. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, trying to be polite to them but only wanting to stare at Maddox. “What brings you to Australia?”

Maya smiles and shrugs. “We both got laid off from work in the same week. Totally different companies, so that was ironic. We took it as a sign that we should take a year off and do that backpacking around the world thing we always talked about.”

“Wow, I’d love to hear some stories and see some pictures,” I say, adjusting my backpack. “I work forNickel Travel Timesand could get some story ideas from you, especially if you’re on a budget.”

“Oh, we are. I mean, we got laid off,” Maya says. “We’re starting with the British empire countries because we can work if we like a place. So far, we’ve built beach huts for tourists up in Cairns and harvested sugar cane down the coast on our way here. We were lucky to run into Maddox so we could get to the center.”

“We ready to roll?” Maddox asks, clapping his hands and interrupting Maya.

She shrugs, but I still focus on her. “I’d love to hear your story.”

“Sure, sure,” Maddox says, grabbing the handle of my rolling suitcase before adjusting his huge backpack. All three of them have the same type of huge backpacker set up. “Plenty of time to yap on the train. We should move.”

We chatter about mundane things on the shuttle ride to the train station. Thankfully, the bed and breakfast has a van that shuttles between the airport and major stations a few times a day. Otherwise, I’d already be off my budget because I’d insist on paying for an Uber since I’m getting my train tickets so cheap.

Once on the train, Maddox and the twins chatter excitedly as I drag my luggage behind me and look at everything. I’ve never been on a sleeper train, and I memorize everything so I can write about it in my article. The smells from the dining car. The other passengers that are much more familiar with travel protocol, pulling their backpacker packs down the hall and laughing with an ease only those on holiday know.

When we get to the room, I realize why Maddox only charged me twenty bucks. In fact, I’m not sure why anyone would pay more than twenty bucks for the room I’m standing in.

Our accommodation is the size of my mother’s Christmas storage closet in our basement back home. Thin bunks on either side of the room fit four sleepers, and there’s a small end table attached to the wall between the bunks. Charging stations are at the head of each bunk, and reading lights are installed above the bunks, but that’s as far as amenities go. Off to the side, there’s a bathroom with a toilet and sink combo I’ve never seen before and a small handheld shower attachment over a place barely big enough to stand in. The whole bathing and toileting combo is the size of a standard airplane lavatory.

Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.

“Do you like being on top or bottom, Ava Calvert?” Maddox asks, winking and biting his lip. The combined effect startles my ovaries, and my nipples stand at attention. That’s becoming a habit around him during blasé conversations, and the sexual innuendo makes it worse.

What would it be like to be on top of this guy?

“Uh, I like the bottom,” I say, eyeing the bunk, putting my luggage on it, and trying to push thoughts of riding Maddox like he’s a thoroughbred out of my mind.

“Interesting,” Maddox replies. “I thought, for sure, you were an on top kind of girl. My mistake.” He smiles, and I’m utterly certain the sexual innuendo was not an accident.

He checks the top bunk to make sure it’s sturdy enough for his masculine, muscular weight and tosses his pack to the top. Maya and Maxwell pull out Kindles and place them on their pillows. Apparently, my paperback from the Chicago Public Library is an amateur item. It makes sense they’d read eBooks since they’re traveling for months, and I hastily shove the motorcycle club romance book under my pillow.

“Who’s up for a drink in the dining car?” Maddox asks. He claps his hands together, and there’s an energy there I can’t place.

This guy is a mover and a shaker. It’s not that I’m a lazy sloth, but I enjoy my down time. From what I’m learning of Maddox, he doesn’t have a shutdown switch. “I’ll have one,” I say, mentally calculating my money I have left to spend for the day. If I go over, I can dip into my own money I budget every month for entertainment. With Chicago rent and food, it’s not much, and I still need to reign it in, but there’s no way I’m declining a drink with Maddox.

The twins both shake their heads in unison and settle into their bunks like they haven’t slept in a month.

“Just you and me then, Calvert.” Maddox holds the door open for me to leave the room, and I step out. We do a funny dance in the hallway when he comes out, like we’re unsure which one of us will take the lead to the dining car. Maddox must realize I’m clueless on where to go because he passes me and walks the way we came.

I follow him in silence. Honestly, I’m enjoying the view. The halls are narrow, so I’m expected to walk behind him, and it’s quite the sight. I’ve always been a shoulder gal, and his are wide. As they move under his shirt with his easy gait, I fantasize about what he does to keep them in shape. A million pushups a day? Lifting a girlfriend over his head for a hundred reps?

“What do you think?” he asks, suddenly turning around. I stop myself before I barrel into his chest.

Heat moves to my cheeks. “I, uh, didn’t hear the question,” I stammer. Like hell I’m going to tell him I didn’t hear what he asked me because I was drooling over his shoulders. It doesn’t help that his eyes are so gorgeous that I’d love to look at them while I massage his butt. Or his butt massages my hands.

Shit, I can’t even think straight. How would his butt massage my hands?

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