Bet on Us by MariaLisa deMora

Author:MariaLisa deMora [deMora, MariaLisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946738547
Publisher: MLK Publishing
Published: 2019-10-11T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Trent

“Uncle Jake, next time can I just give him a poke?”

Trent kept his eyes closed as he smiled, face angled away from where the voice came from. He was coiled in the back seat of the SUV, propped up by a pillow shoved in the corner by the door. His latest nap had ended just moments before when a jarring bump had rattled him free from sleep. He’d never accuse Jacob of waking him on purpose, but Jericho’s comment certainly put the move under suspicion.

“I’m awake.” He lifted his chin as he yawned, turning his head in time to catch Jacob’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Hey, you scrumptious thing you.” Straightening up, he looked outside, seeing the road framed the familiar view of the ocean to the west, and mountains far in the distance on the east. “Oh, you made good time, honeybuns.”

“Promised you that we’d sleep in our bed tonight.” Jacob’s voice was gruff and strained, and when Trent looked closer, it was clear how tired he was. “I keep my promises.”

Leaning forwards, Trent trailed his fingers across the back of Jacob’s neck, finding the strain of tense muscles and rubbing small circles over those sensitive spots. “I know you do, Jakey. Not long now and we’ll all be home.” He caught Jericho looking at them with a sappy grin on his face and smiled back at the boy.

Jericho had done well on their extended road trip, proving a good traveler who was considerate of others in the vehicle. Trent and Jacob had shared a hushed and hurried conversation during their shower last night, comparing notes on Jericho’s continued odd behavior after they’d left Memphis. He’d been good, sure. But Trent was convinced it was too good, with no emotional outbursts or even grumpy moments. Jacob had felt the boy just needed to settle into a routine, understandably thrown off by everything that had happened.

Trent thought it was more, but he’d backed off his desire to have a conversation with Jericho then and there, grudgingly admitting to Jacob that he might be right about a small hotel room in a nowhere town in the middle of Nevada being the wrong place to tackle what could prove to be a sensitive subject.

“Any state parks between us and home?” Trent angled his head at the glove box, where the stash of paper maps they’d bought Jericho had taken up residence. When Jacob found out Jericho had never been to a park of any kind, their route from Memphis to San Diego had grown exponentially longer. “Didja check a map?”

First it was the mountains and forests of Arkansas, then the reservations of northern Oklahoma. They’d dipped into Texas at some point to see a line of cars half-buried in the red dirt, and then headed back along I40 to weave their western way to the Grand Canyon. Jacob and Jericho had pored over the maps every night, planning the next day’s travel. It had been amazing to see them bonding

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