The automatic doors swing open for us as we walk in, and I watch Wyatt’s eyes go wide. “It’s huge!” He looks from one thing to the next in quick succession—fountain drinks, jerky station, tie-dye beaver t-shirts, ready-made meals, and miles of snack aisles.
“I told you so.” I smirk at him. “I’m going to the ladies’ room first. I’ll be right back.”
By the time I come back from the immaculate bathrooms, Ifind Wyatt ordering a pound of habanero teriyaki jerky from the counter, his hands stacked with snacks. He has sweet Beaver Nuggets, fudge, brisket tacos, and a bottle of specialty hot sauce. All gleaming with the beaming beaver mascot. Plus, regular candy, chips, a Dr. Pepper, and a Gatorade.
“I see you found your way around?” I laugh.
“There’s a Reese’s in there for you somewhere.”
“This is enough candy for a week,” I tease as I sort through it.
“Not for me.”
I laugh. “True. It might last you two whole days, though.”
“Worth it, right?” Jerky hangs out of his mouth as he talks.
I nod emphatically. “Totally.”
We pay for all our provisions and get back on the highway, falling into a comfortable silence. My sixteen-hour country music playlist is still going strong. It carries us down the highway to nineties classics and new radio hits.
“Speaking of Texas traditions…” he starts. “I’ve been thinking of my second event for our deal. You got the first one, and I think I should get the next.”
“Okay, shoot. What are you thinking?”
“As much as I love Wisconsin, I think I’m ready to give Texas the chance it deserves. I’ve been here nine months, and I haven’t really done anything. I just go to practice during the season or the gym with the guys in the off season. I’ve been to a few restaurants and Colin and Noah’s houses. That’s it.”
“Consider me your official tour guide, then.” I take a fake bow.
“I was thinking about going to the rodeo…would that be a good place to start?”
My face lights up at the suggestion. “Oh my God, yes! That’s actually the perfect place to start.” I hold my hands outin front of me. “We’ll get you Texas lessons.” I tap my chin thinking about everything he would need to fit in there. He’s honestly not that far off, having grown up on a literal farm. That’s more country than most people in Houston ever get. This might be the south, but we’re still the third biggest city in the country.
“I don’t know if that’s necessary.”
I hold up a hand to silence him. “Class is in session.”
“Right now?” he asks, surprised.
“We have at least an hour, and I already have everything you need to know right here.” I tap a finger to my temple. “First lesson.” I lean back in my seat. “Thehin Humble is silent and theu-yin Kuykendahl is actually anirsound.”
“Why do I need to know that?” He peers over at me.
“The fastest way to tell if someone isn’t from around here is what they call things. For example, they change the name of a highway, and we all refuse to comply.”
His brows crinkle in confusion, “Okay…”
“Another thing about highways is you must be doing eighty miles an hour at all times or get in the slow lane so people can pass you.” He looks pointedly at his speedometer. “You’ve got the next rule down pat.” I gesture around at the truck we’re riding in. “Drive a lifted truck and never tow anything with it.”
“Hey! I have a farm truck back home that does tow things.”
“Yeah, but that’s Wisconsin. In Houston, everyone drives trucks, and almost no one needs them.”
He lifts his head proudly. “At least I already have cowboy boots.”
I laugh. “Wrong-o. Your cowboy boots are actually used. We have to get you a new pair of Lucchese’s that you’ll only get out of the box for country concerts and the rodeo.”
His head hangs in defeat. “Being a Texan is hard.”