She scowled, because that look reminded her of that kiss on her temple she shouldn’t be thinking about. “Nothing that’s anywhere close to what’s on your mind at this very second.”

“Food, Joy. My mind is on food. I’m famished. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, but nobody can know that we drove together. Got it?”

He frowned. “Why?”

“If Mark . . .” She glanced away. “I don’t want to hurt him. He really wanted to come with me.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“None of your business.”

He scrunched up his mouth, then relaxed and nodded. “Fine. Anything else?”

“Nope. That’s it for me. You?” She unlocked the doors. Dylan went to his side and put his stuff in the back seat.

“One rule,” he announced as Joy started to sit down. She stood back up and looked at him across the roof of the car. “We need a rule about side trips. I have gigs scheduled. I can’t be late or miss a performance.”

Dylan had been a little more than miffed yesterday when she took a slight detour to the museum. “What are you proposing?”

“If one of us wants to take a side trip, we both have to agree. So, what do you say, Joy, do we have a deal?”

“Only if you agree to go on the side trip I planned for today.” She’d plotted the day’s course last night. She’d been anticipating today’s adventure for weeks. She wasn’t inclined to deviate.

He side-eyed her. “Where are you going?”

“The Grand Canyon.”

“You serious? That’s a full two hours north. In the wrong direction.” He groaned, face lifted heavenward. He dragged his hands down his cheeks and narrowed his eyes at her. “Can we be in Albuquerque by ten tomorrow morning?”

“Easy. We’ll be there by tonight.”

Dylan took a beat, then reached his arm across the canvas roof. “All right, Joy. I’ll go with you to the Grand Canyon if you take me to New York.”

“Then we have a deal,” she announced, pleased and nervous all at once. She stood on the Bug’s runner, leaned across the roof, and grasped Dylan’s hand. She also snuffed the first thought that came to mind: Judy never would have agreed to such a deal.

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

BEFORE

Dylan

Flagstaff, Arizona, to the Grand Canyon

What the hell was he thinking?

Dylan hated tight spaces, and ever since his relationship with Sonia imploded—his fault, not hers—he avoided relationships like a blistering STD. He now hadn’t just agreed to both, he’d negotiated himself into the position. At least Joy’s Bug was a convertible and, unlike the driver of his dad’s tour bus, he could ask her to pull over at any time. He’d also have his own room at night, not a six-by-three sleeping bunk with a four-inch foam mattress.