Excerpt: Cupid at the Bat

The look on his face when he saw the car in the parking lot outside her hotel room wasn't terribly reassuring, though. It was more of a look of besotted adoration than careful appraisal, though, even she had to admit that when it wasn't the middle of the night, it was a good-looking car. "You -are- aware that this doesn't actually have sticky vinyl seats, right?" he finally said, stowing his bag in the trunk and returning to the front of the car to run his hands of the leather of the driver's seat.

"I was scarred for life by childhood vacations," she offered cheerfully. "In my mind, all road trips happen in a beige 1983 station wagon complete with someone playing hair metal on a cassette deck."

"You're kidding?" Brian looked at Stacie across the interior of the car, as she rolled down the window to let some of the hot air out. "You're not kidding."

"Nope." Stacie finished messing with the window and dropped down into the passenger seat. "All the way from Boston to Kansas City in a beige Corolla wagon. My mom thought a giant container of black licorice would be just the thing to snack on along the way, except it predictably melted and made the car smell like licorice and plastic. I still feel a little queasy every time I smell licorice."

"Note to self, no licorice," said Brian, adjusting the rearview mirror.

"Not unless you intend to pay for the damage to the rental car, no."