I was reading through some of my WIP, Finding Jackie and I ran across these few paragraphs. They made me smile even though it happens at a crucial point in the story. Sonny has insisted that one leg of their extended honeymoon consist of driving to Nebraska in a rented motorhome. (Luki, of course, never says no to Sonny, and it would likely make little difference if he did.) They're stopped and all set up at an RV hookup site, when they get the phone call from Luki's uncle Kaholo: Jackie is missing. Here's a short bit of what immediately follows:

Sonny, of course, had no qualms about driving The Monster really fast. “Here, Luki,” he said, before Luki even hit ‘end call’ after talking with Josh. “You put these away good enough they won’t fly around and break when we turn a corner. I’ll get this old girl all ready and get her fired up.”

Luki obeyed, stashing the glasses, plates, and knives with extra care, not wanting to get Sonny’s scolding, and besides it calmed his mind. While Sonny jumped—literally—out the door to pull plugs and roll hoses, he stacked dishes and tried to line his thoughts up just as neatly. Where to start? How to find Jackie’s trail? One step at a time. That was the only answer he could come up with.

“You done, Luki?” Sonny flung himself into the driver’s seat, and after a quick rattle of the keys and a single crank of the ignition, the diesel engine purred. “Seatbelt, honey. Let’s go.”
Luki jumped into his seat and pulled the belt across his lap as Sonny started The Monster moving, and by the time it was buckled, they’d made the turn onto the highway.

Sonny said, “Hang on.” This worried Luki. By now he was quite used to Sonny’s driving which often seemed wild, but rarely was, because he knew just what he was doing. The vehicle might spin, slide, or skid, but Sonny had control. It was crazy and it made Luki’s stomach do flips, but it didn’t really scare him—it kind of turned him on. But Sonny didn’t usually say, “hang on.” Luki wondered if perhaps he should have used the bathroom while he could.

His knuckles stayed white for the next half hour, until he acclimated himself to the faint squeal of tires, almost rhythmic on the winding road, the whoosh of cars and trucks as The Monster pushed past them, the rising pitch of the engine’s whine as they picked up speed on every downhill. Finally, he started to believe he was safe in Sonny’s hands even in the oversized vehicle, and he started to believe he would make it through without smoking, and he let hands relax in his lap.

“Sonny,” he said. “First, I love you. Also, I think this is going to be a hard thing for me to work out—finding Jackie.”