Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(99)

Chase snorted. “Define real food.”

“Something that is not battered and deep fat fried. A fresh garden salad with spinach and arugula and butter lettuce, bursting with crunchy vegetables.”

“You had a salad yesterday.”

“I had chopped iceberg lettuce with a few carrot shavings and one cherry tomato—that is not a salad. And since when is a cup of fruit cocktail topped with sliced bananas considered a side of fruit?”

“Since always. I can pull over and you can forage for fresh crunchy greens in the ditch if you like.”

“Oh shut up. Now who’s being mean?”

He sighed. “Look, it sucks that it annoys you, but do you want to know why I need sunflower seeds when I’m on the road?”

It’d really piss him off if she didn’t ask.
Even when you are dying to know?
Dammit. “Fine. Why do you need sunflower seeds?”

“Because I used to chew tobacco. Goin’ from event to event, I was chewing a can of Copenhagen a day. When my usage inched up to nearly a can and a half a day? I knew I had a problem.”

“So sunflower seeds helped you quit?”

“First I got a prescription for Chantrix. Then I started on the seeds. It’s been three years since I quit and I still f*cking crave chew. Especially when I’m on a long drive. And I’m usually by myself, so I don’t give a shit about how obnoxious it is.”

“I’m glad you quit chewing, because it’s a disgusting habit.” She shuddered, thinking of all the cowboys she’d watched spitting all the damn time. “But you’re telling me to suck it up as far as your need for seed.”

“Pretty much.”

Ava cooed, “Well, darlin’, I say the same to you as far as the music. Suck it up.” She turned the music a hair louder and refocused on the task on her computer, separating pictures and video snippets into appropriate folders.
Talk about a long, silent, uncomfortable drive.
Because they were hitting another rodeo in Montana that started at noon the next day, they wouldn’t need a motel room since they’d—she’d—be driving straight through the night.
Chase parked in the far corner of the lot. He faced her. “You’re not coming to tape my rides?”

“I’d better rest up for the drive.” She might actually be able to sleep without Mr. Chipmunk Cheeks’ constant chomping.
He cleaned up the mess on his side and pulled out a sun shield that fit the entire windshield. “Keep the windows cracked for air. Be glad it ain’t a hundred degrees today. Need anything else before I take off?”

A kiss so I know there’s no real hard feelings between us.
But for some stupid reason, pride probably, she couldn’t ask for it. She shook her head.
“Lock the doors,” he warned and he was gone.
Don’t obsess. You’re together all day, every day. This was bound to happen sooner or later.
Sighing, Ava snagged her pillow, donned her eye mask and drifted to sleep in blessed non-nut-cracking silence.
And she must’ve slept hard because the next thing she knew, Chase gently jostled her awake. “Hey.”

She sat up and blinked at him, standing just inside the passenger door in the glow of the interior light. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. Ran late because of some annual local awards that took damn near forty-five minutes before the bull ridin’ started.”

“How’d you do?”

“Rode the first one. Bucked off the second. Didn’t place.” He unzipped his vest.
She automatically touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”