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Shaking my head at the thought, I rounded the front of the truck and stepped inside, the running board groaning under my weight.

By the time I slid into the driver’s seat, Eleanor was already settled. Legs crossed, a pillow on her lap, and her laptop open like she was setting up camp. She didn’t even look up as I put the truck into drive.

We were off—heading to our next, and final, destination. The last leg of this journey. The weight of it pressed against me, unspoken, as the ranch disappeared in the rearview mirror.

WE WERE ONLY a couple of hours in, and the princess in my passenger seat was already showing signs of restlessness. Eleanor shifted nonstop in her seat, alternating between staring out the window and sighing dramatically while looking out the windshield.

Rolling my head to stretch the tension she was causing, I exhaled a long, strained breath.

“Is there something you need to say, Eleanor?” I asked, my tone casual, eyes fixed on the road. One hand rested lazily on the steering wheel, while the other draped across the center console.

She hesitated before finally admitting, “I have to use the bathroom.” She shifted again, like moving to a new position might magically fix the problem.

I glanced around, scanning for anything resembling a gas station or rest stop. Luckily, there was one not too far up ahead—a run-down place with giant red letters glowing faintly against the blue sky.

“This is the only one for miles,” I said, flicking on the turn signal and easing into the next lane. “Fair warning, it’s a bit grungy.”

“I would pee in a damn bottle right now,” she huffed, shifting in her seat like a toddler who’d waited too long.

“Why didn’t you go before we left?” I asked, more out of curiosity than criticism.

“I did,” she snapped. “Are you writing a fucking book about my bathroom habits? I drank a lot of water. Sue me.”

Biting back a laugh, I pulled up to one of the pumps and killed the engine. Eleanor wasted no time. She shoved on her slippers, jumped out of the truck, and took off in a full sprint toward the gas station.

Shaking my head, I climbed out too. My boots clunked against the pavement as I headed to the pump. Figured I might as well top off the gas while we were stopped. I tapped my card and then grabbed the nozzle to fill up. Once the gas was flowing, I leaned against the truck, waiting.

When the pump clicked, signaling it was done, I replaced the nozzle and glanced toward the station. Eleanor still wasn’t out. I frowned. It shouldn’t take that long, even with a line.

Curiosity—and a flicker of concern—got the best of me. I headed inside, the bell above the door chiming as I stepped through.

I stopped instantly at the scene in front of me. Eleanor was at the front counter, her arms crossed, her expression hard. To her right, a lanky guy in a beat-up cowboy hat leaned casually against the counter, way too far into her personal space.

My steps slowed as I approached. The guy had a slimy grin plastered on his face, and the hunger in his eyes made my blood boil. My jaw tightened, and heat prickled across my skin.

“Excuse me?” Eleanor’s sharp voice rang out as she turned to face him fully. Despite her smaller frame, she stood tall, her hand now planted on her hip like she was ready to go to war.

The guy straightened slightly, his smug grin still intact as he towered over her. “You heard me, sweetie,” he drawled, his tone gruff enough to make my stomach turn.

Eleanor scoffed, not missing a beat. “You have no clue who you’re talking to. Take your green bean ass somewhere else.” She waved a dismissive hand and pivoted back to the cashier, clearly done with him.

Before the guy could come up with another sleazy response, I stepped beside Eleanor and cleared my throat. Loudly.

“I sure as hell hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” I said, my voice low and steady, though my anger was anything but. My gaze raked over him slowly, sizing him up and planning exactly how to dismantle him, limb by fucking limb.

The guy turned to me, his grin faltering slightly before he rolled his eyes. “Piss off. I saw her first.”

That was it. I could feel the anger surge through me like a charging bull. If it were humanly possible for smoke to come out of my ears, I’d look like a damn chimney.

Eleanor, clearly unfazed, dropped her voice an octave and muttered like she was mocking a caveman, “Oh no. You made big man mad. He kick your ass.”

The guy glanced between me and Eleanor, his eyes darting nervously like he was starting to piece it together.

“Now,” I said, stepping closer, “you’re going to apologize to the lady and leave. Got it?”

Eleanor, ever the sass queen, quipped, “Hurry up, Green Bean. He doesn’t like to repeat himself.”

The guy hesitated, glancing at me one more time before muttering a barely audible, “Sorry,” and slinking out the door.