“Twenty-five next month. I’d love to see him for my birthday.”
“You’ll get to. Montreal isn’t but a few days’ ride.” Her eyes jumped to his. The way she stared at him, he knew what the problem was. “You don’t have a passport.” He made it a statement, not a question.
“Not with me.”
“Fuck.” Sliding from the booth. “Stay here,” he told her firmly, then he walked outside to make a call. He needed a passport and fast.
Cree called the President of the South Dakota chapter. Roughstock was a solid brother, one who would come through for him. “Cree, how’s it going, brother?”
“Roughstock, things are good.”
“You still in South Dakota?”
“Yeah. Listen, I had to come up to Hill City to protect Player’s little sister.”
“You need some help?”
“Nah, I got it covered. What I need is a passport to get her across the border.”
“When can you be here?”
“Later this afternoon.”
“Shoot me a photo and her info. We’ll have it waiting for you.”
“I owe you, Roughstock.”
“It’s family, Cree.”
“True. See ya soon.” Cree hung up with Roughstock and walked back inside at the precise time his food was being delivered. Waiting for the waitress to walk away, he kept his voice low. “We’ll pick you up a passport in Rapid City.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Your personal information and a photo.”
“Where can we get a passport picture taken?”
Cree thought about the question. He recalled seeing a dollar photo booth inside the General Store. “The General Store has an instant photo booth. We’ll stop in while we grab you better clothes.
Kennedy made a sandwich out of her breakfast as she acknowledged Cree’s comment. When he asked why she hadn’t ordered a breakfast sandwich, she sighed. “The sandwich was twelve dollars. Ordering it this way, it’s only six. If you ever had to stretch a dollar, you’d pay attention to the small details.”
Biting into the sandwich, she wasn’t surprised Cree didn’t have a response. It didn’t bother her that he remained silent. It was easier to appreciate his good looks if he kept his mouth shut.
Thirty minutes later, Kennedy found herself once again arguing money with Cree as they walked down the sidewalk. Weaving around tourists and holiday shoppers, she followed the directions Alice had given her.
“How do your feet feel?”
“These booties are comfortable, although I don’t think they’re made for outdoor use.”
“They’re slippers.”
“Are they?” Kennedy glanced at the shoes she was currently wearing. Interesting. They didn’t look like slippers. “Can I wear them on the bike?”
Cree almost stopped walking when he heard the question. “Hell no, you can’t wear those on the bike.”
“Okay, I was only asking.”
“Are your feet hurting now that the blisters have been drained?”
