Side Trip(67)

“Damn straight,” he agreed, launching into Heaven’s Door’s iconic lyrics, harmonizing with Bob Dylan’s scratchy voice.

Joy’s mouth fell open. Their voices sounded incredible together. “Omigosh, Dylan!”

He grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t leave me hanging. Sing with me, Joy.”

Joy belted out the lyrics and Dylan started driving. She sang along with him on every tune that aired, from Creedence Clearwater Revival to ABBA. About an hour in, fat raindrops splatted on the windshield. King Harvest’s “Dancing in the Moonlight” came on.

Her mouth formed an O, her eyes going just as big and round. She looked at the dash screen, then up at the rain-splattered windshield, then over at Dylan. Their eyes met. He grinned.

“Karma, Joy. Side trip!” He swerved onto the side of the highway, slamming on the brakes. He lunged out his door, the car still running, and ran around the front.

What the heck was he doing?

He yanked open her door and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“Here? Now?”

“Right here, right now. But turn up the volume first.” He thrust a finger at the radio.

No need to tell her twice.

She cranked up the volume and placed her hand in Dylan’s. He pulled her from the car and into the rain. Joy shrieked. This was no California drizzle. Dylan laughed, spun her around. Still holding her hand, he started to dance like a crazy man. A crazy man with an incredible sense of style, rhythm, and way too much sensuality for his own good. Oh, my lord, the man could dance.

His exuberance was contagious. Joy threw her head back and laughed. She bounced on her toes and raised her face to the heavens. She danced on the side of the highway. She danced in the rain. She danced for Judy, and she danced with Dylan.

The wind picked up and the rain fell in thick sheets. They were drenched through to their chilled skin. Cars sped past, horns blaring. Joy didn’t care. She just waved.

Sooner than she would have liked, the song wound down, fading into a Bee Gees ballad. Dylan wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her cheek to his wet tee, and he rested his head on hers. They rocked, side to side.

“Best side trip ever,” she said.

“What?” Dylan brought his ear to her mouth so that he could hear.

“Best side trip ever,” she shouted.

He gawked. “Better than jumping off a bridge?”

“Much better!” She laughed and Dylan tightened his embrace. His fingers dug into her soaked hair, holding her against him. She could feel the beat of his heart under her cheek, the warmth of his damp skin under her fingers, his hot breath on her head.

“Thank you, Joy.”

“For what?”

When he hesitated, Joy lifted her face and looked up at him. Her gaze met his and held. Something unfamiliar and vulnerable swirled in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Ask me, ‘Truth or dare.’”

“Okay . . . ,” she said, unsure where he was going with this. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” But before she could ask him a question, or think of one, he shared his truth. “I dreaded this trip. I didn’t want to take it, but I didn’t have a choice. I have to see this through to the end.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“Long story, but something unexpected happened last night. I didn’t feel as if I was being forced to play. For the first time ever in my life, I wanted to go onstage and sing. I wanted to hear the crowd and feel their energy. It was incredible.”

“Dylan, that’s huge!” she exclaimed. “But what about Rick?”

“Screw Rick. I’ll deal with him later. But you, Joy . . .” He stared down the highway before turning his attention back to her. His eyes drank her in. His lips drenched with rainwater parted. He wiped aside wet hair plastered to her forehead and stroked her cheek. “I never expected to meet someone like you. You make me want to dance in the rain every day and skinny-dip on a whim. There is so much you make me want. What if—”

A succession of honks blared from a passing car, drowning out his words. Joy shot an irritated glance at the highway and gripped his wet shirt. “What did you say?” she said loudly, desperate to know.

He pulled her into his chest. His mouth skimmed her ear. “What if this trip—?”

A shrill alarm sounded from inside the car the same instant something hard hit her head. “Ow.” She rubbed her crown.

“Hail!” Dylan grasped her shoulders and spun her around. “Get in the car.”

She dived into her seat, drenched. The alarm blared again. Dylan slammed her door and ran to his side. She dug through her purse. Dylan dropped into the driver’s seat, spraying water everywhere, and shut the door. He turned off the radio.

“What the hell is that noise?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think it’s my phone.”

She found the shrieking device at the bottom of her purse. An unfamiliar notification glared on-screen.

“What’s going on?” Dylan asked, buckling his seat belt. He leaned across her and buckled her belt as she read the message.

“It’s an emergency alert. It says there’s a tornado.”





CHAPTER 24