“I think so. Just a little shaken.”

“Appreciate your stopping though,” Cruz said and shook the man’s hand.

“Least I could do. Why don’t you turn the engine? Let’s make sure everything is running okay. Wouldn’t want to leave you two alone by the road here without knowing everything’s in tip-top shape,” the older driver said.

“Good point,” Cruz said and slid into the driver’s side.

“These narrow roads are downright chilling,” the woman said to Payton. “Why, since we left Puerto Vallarta earlier we’ve been scrunched between two semis as we rode through the mountain pass. And even then several cars came up and passed us, despite the traffic still coming from the other side. I’ve been biting my nails since we left.”

Cruz turned the key and a horrible grinding noise started. He tried again but with the same result.

A new fear gripped Payton. What was wrong with their car? It had to be okay. How were they going to get to the dinner tonight? Heck, forget the dinner, what about the wedding tomorrow?

It had to be okay.

Cruz and a couple of the men walked to the front of the car and lifted the hood, tinkering around inside. Fifteen minutes later, there were various diagnostics offered but the conclusion was the same.

The car wasn’t going anywhere.

Panic swept through her as she caught Cruz’s gaze. He seemed to be reassuring her with that dark, confident stare. He nodded. “We just need to get it into a shop. That’s all, Payton. I’ll call someone now.”

“We’re heading into the town of Tequila,” the bus driver said. “It’s only a few miles away. We’d be happy to give you two a ride.” Payton remembered spotting a sign just a few minutes back mentioning the town. “I’m sure you could find a garage there. We’re performing there tonight as part of a celebration one of the distilleries is hosting to kick off the introduction of a new line.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Cruz said and nodded to the group. Looking back to her, he said, “We’ll find a shop in town that can send someone out to get the car. I’ll also call the rental office and see if there are any other options. It’ll work out.”

She did feel better at his assurance. A hand wrapped around her arm. “Payton? That’s an intriguing name. Love it. I’m Bev. My husband, Lenny, you’ve met,” she said, pointing to the semi-balding driver with white tufts of hair. “We’ll make more introductions once we’re off the road. Why don’t you grab your things and we’ll get loaded back onto the bus.”

Infinitely grateful for the couple—even if they were the cause of their current condition—Payton smiled back. A space was cleared behind Bev’s seat near the front of the bus. Another woman introduced as Pat, joined Bev on the seat, and they turned fully around to stare at the newcomers. Cruz snagged the aisle seat, his bulk needing the space to sit comfortably, his arms folded in front of him.

“So where you two from?” Bev asked, looking back and forth between them. Stoic, serious Cruz was back, and Payton sensed he would leave the talking to her.

“We’re from Salt Lake. Ever been there?” Payton chirped.

“Actually, I have. My sister lives in Twin Falls, Idaho, and we’ve traveled through several times. Beautiful city. We’re from Waco, Texas. Been on the road for about a week now. Third year in a row we’ve toured Mexico. It’s beautiful and everyone is so darned friendly. How about yourselves? What brings you two here?”

“Cruz and I are on our way to Puerto Vallarta.” She paused, a crazy but intriguing notion entering her head.

She shouldn’t do it. She really shouldn’t.

But a little devil inside her screamed at her to run with it. Have some fun. It might make this detour a little more interesting. It would be a lie, but it seemed harmless. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see these people again after they reached Tequila.

And the bonus was seeing how Cruz would react.

“We’re getting married, isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turned to him, smiling as he slowly turned to stare at her like she’d sprouted snakes from her head. His arms remained folded across his chest, but she noticed his fingers tapping against one arm. Other than that, he remained silent.

She tilted her head to rest on his shoulder and fluttered her eyelids at him for a moment.

Then she saw the oddest thing.

He almost smiled.

Cruz could not believe the gall of the woman. Lying. Plain as day. And looking like the devil as she played to the crowd. But he knew her well. He knew that this game was targeted at him.

She was playing with him.

And Lord help him, it actually gave him the slightest thrill. There was a sense of familiarity returning to their usual roles of antagonists rather than their new friendly truce. But it was a little different. Almost…flirty.

“Last week we were at a hockey game—we just adore hockey,” she added, he was sure, for his benefit. “Well, right there in the middle of the game, Cruz turned to me and before I knew it, he was sliding down on one knee and holding a box in front of him. I almost fainted dead away, right then.”

The occupants on the bus were all riveted and he heard oohs and ahs escape from a few of the women as Payton warmed to her story. “And then, what do you know, he pointed to the big screen in the center of the whole place and there were the words flashing across the screen. ‘Payton, will you marry me.’ And the crowd almost collectively held their breath, waiting for my response. I just looked into Cruz’s eyes, so dark. Hypnotic. Filled with love,” she smiled back up at him, a mischievous sparkle in those green, glimmering eyes. “And I knew he was the only one for me. Well, of course I cried yes and he pulled me into one of those swoony lip locks that had the whole place going crazy.”

The women were beaming, looking like they might eat them both up, they were that adorable. He managed not to roll his eyes.

“That is the cutest story I ever heard,” Bev said, actually looking a little misty-eyed. “So why did you two decide to come down here?”

The questions weren’t even posed to him anymore, not that he’d know how to respond. It was her lie, not his.

Payton didn’t hesitate a beat. “Cruz has some family down here and we thought, why not make a trip of it? Surprise them. Then our flight almost crashed near Laredo and with spring break upon us, the only way we could get out to Mexico was by car. And Cruz was such a sweetie, assuring me that driving here, just the two of us, would be a wonderful adventure we could tell our kids about in the years to come. Believe me. It has been that. And this latest detour will certainly be something to remember.”

This time the gazes returned to him. He shrugged his shoulders, resigned to their new facade of soon to be newlyweds. Fortunately, no one minded his stoic silence and the next few minutes passed as the women regaled them with stories of their own nuptials.

Glancing around the bus, he was certain none of the occupants—save for him and Payton—were under age fifty. All of them seemed to be part of a couple. The men, like him, sat mostly silent as the women shared, looking like they’d heard the stories many times before.

A few minutes later, they reached the little town of Tequila, which wasn’t the quiet, peaceful town he’d been hoping for. Instead, it was teeming with tourists in jeans and shorts walking in the same direction they were headed. He prayed there was a garage still open and he could persevere in getting the car fixed that evening.

“It should be somewhere down this way, if I remember right,” Lenny said. Sure enough, a moment later, several stacked tires near the front of a garage told them they’d arrived. In the lingering late afternoon sunlight, the facade looked muted, almost vintage. And open, if the sign in the window was any indication.

Lenny parked the bus in front and turned around to address Cruz. “Why don’t you go see what they can do for you? With the festival, they might be closing shop early. We’ll stick around. Your fiancée’s welcome to wait here.”