Planes, Trains, and All the Feels by Livy Hart

Author:Livy Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hilarious;heartfelt;road trip;opposites;enemies;sunshine grump;airplane;train;car;travel;stranded;one bed;family;best friend;sister;mother;alcoholism;diabetes;drug abuse;hospital;cirrhosis;wedding;dancer;actuary;North Carolina;California;Kentucky;Colorado;Utah;Las Vegas;TikTok;BookTok;Popular Books;hilarious;heartfelt;road trip;opposites;enemies;sunshine grump;airplane;train;car;travel;stranded;one bed;family;best friend;sister;mother;alcoholism;diabetes;drug abuse;hospital;cirrhosis;wedding;dancer;actuary;North Carolina;California;Kentucky;Colorado;Utah;Las Vegas;romantic comedy;comedy;road trip comedy;road trip romance;enemies to lovers;Livy Hart;Planes Trains and all the Feels by Livy Hart;Planes Trains and all the Feels;contemporary romance;romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-11-07T02:15:18+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Luke

Something is very wrong with Cassidy.

She says nothing all the way to the bank, and when I return with my temporary debit card, she can barely muster a thumbs-up.

This is not the bubbly chatterbox I’ve been traveling with, and it makes me uneasy as hell.

I drop back into the driver’s seat, anxiety tensing my muscles. Mountains loom in the distance, offering me a jagged skyline to stare at as I consider my options.

Given whatever she’s going through is none of my business, I should ignore it and leave her to stew in peace. It’s what I’d want.

But she’s not me. She thrives on human contact. Ignoring this doesn’t feel right.

I swipe the phone from her lap. “Give me a quick second to check something and we’ll be off.”

I perform a quick search and delete the history after finding what I’m looking for, because if she discovers what I’m planning, she’ll insist it’s a waste of time.

It probably is. But I’m not sure what else to do.

When we pull up to the Antique Washing Machine Museum, it’s abundantly clear that she paid zero attention to our rural surroundings as we approached. I snuck us off the highway in plain sight.

“Luke,” she says warily, leaning forward in her chair. “What is this?”

“What does it look like?” I park the car in a gravel lot and throw Price is Right arms at the tiny, weathered building. The wood-paneled siding gives the museum a log cabin look, as does the wraparound porch. Two rocking chairs stand guard over the front door. It’s all rich wood and rustic, but behind it lies a giant eyesore of a warehouse. “The Lee Maxwell Washing Machine Museum.”

She looks out her window and back at me. “Why are we here?”

“For fun.”

“Again, why?”

“It’s on my bingo card.” I lower to meet her gaze. She’s not laughing at the joke. “It was on the way. I thought it’d cheer you up. I’m a washing machine collector. Which of these reasons appeals to you?”

Her gaze clouds over into something stormy.

My pulse trips. “If you’re worried about the time this wastes, it wasn’t even out of the way. And I already plan to drive until my eyes are crossed tonight—”

She shoves open the door and storms out of the convertible, slamming it behind her. The noise rattles a group of birds who take off in a flurry.

I launch out of my side, shut my door, and follow after her. “What? What’d I say?”

She stomps away four steps, kicking up gravel. When she wheels around, her finger is pointed at me. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop messing with my head. Stop doing nice things for me. Stop letting me sleep on your lap, then acting like it’s no big deal. Stop solving my problems and looking at me like you care. I know you’re just being nice, but it’s messing with my head.”

I gape at her, unsure how to respond. Her words are like a tablecloth ripped off, sending glasses and plates flying everywhere.

Panic flashes in her eyes.

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