Chapter Thirty-Five
Just as she was reaching across the seat to wake Garrett, the car ripped out into the other lane and passed her in a flash.
Her mind was busy calculating a strategy. She’d slow down to put more distance between them. But she expected to see their brake lights any second, and then the men inside would jump out and shoot her.
Except, the car continued on at high speed and the distance between the vehicles grew longer and longer, until she couldn’t even see their tail lights.
“Huh. It was just a run-of-the-mill asshole. Not an assassin.” She may have overreacted, but who could blame her?
Garrett didn’t wake when she stopped for gas at about midnight. She’d thought she’d make it to wherever they were going, but the fuel light had come on. And even if they had made it, it was never a good idea to have an empty gas tank. Especially while on the run from men with guns.
She put the Glock in her waistband and pumped the gas using a credit card belonging to Carter Bingham that she found in Garrett’s wallet, not even waiting for the receipt before she got back in the car and drove off.
She was on edge. It was the middle of the night, and she felt like everyone was watching her.
The GPS led her to a chain motel outside of Lexington, Kentucky. She parked at the side of the building. After looking around a few times, she hopped out of the car, locking Garrett inside, and went into the lobby.
“May I help you?” the man asked.
“Yes, my husband and I need a room for the night.” She smiled more enthusiastically than necessary, giddy with exhaustion and liking the way my husband sounded coming out of her mouth way too much.
She handed him “her husband’s” credit card and the clerk gave her two key cards and a map of the motel.
“Have a nice stay,” the man said.
Sam made sure her shirt was still covering the gun in her waistband as she smiled and said, “Thank you.”
She re-parked the car closer to their door, then reached over and shook Garrett awake.
He jumped, his hand going to his gun as his head snapped around in all directions. How sad to always have to be ready for imminent death. She hoped one day they might both be able to go back to normal irritation when awakened.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“We’re here.” That was no real answer, but he must have understood.
“Did you have to stop for gas?”
“Yes. I used the credit card for the gas and the room, too. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. You didn’t have any problems?”
“No.” She wouldn’t go into her overreaction about the black sedan. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” As he surveyed the parking lot again, she didn’t think he looked much better. His skin was still pale, but the clamminess was gone.
“I’ll help you to the room,” she offered.
Of course, he was much too tough to need her help and was already struggling to get out of the car on his own. She sighed, but opened the door to their room and went inside.
“Thanks for getting us here,” he said, following her in.
The room smelled like stale smoke, but was clean. Nice as far as motel rooms went. There was a desk, a sofa, and a big-screen TV.
And a king-size bed.
The hotel clerk must have assumed a married couple only needed the one bed.
Oops.
Garrett sat down on the loveseat and kicked off his shoes with a grunt as she deposited their bags on a stand by the door. “Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him.
She sat, spinning her wedding ring when she took in the seriousness of his expression.
“I’m sorry about all of this, Sam. I’m sorry nothing’s going right, and that you had to kill people and stitch me up. That’s not how this is supposed to work.”
“It’s okay. We’re alive. That’s the important thing,” she pointed out.
“Yes. And I want to thank you for that. I was angry that you didn’t do what I said. I didn’t want you to be in danger. But I’m really grateful you came back to help me, and were smart enough to handle the situation. You saved my life.”
“You saved mine first.” She smiled.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” His voice was so soft it lured her closer.
She glanced down at his lips, knowing what it felt like to have hers pressed against them. He had moved closer to her, too, and she could feel his warm breath on her face. Her heart pounded.
Then, abruptly, he stood up.
She blinked in surprise, disappointed that the moment hadn’t ended the way she’d hoped. With a sigh, she got up to help him get his balance when he started to sway.
“It’s about time you start pulling your own weight,” he teased as he patted her cheek. His touch lingered slightly.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one having issues with the rules. The sex had been amazing, and it was impossible to pretend that she didn’t want him again. And again.
Rather than dwell, she moved on.
“Since I’m pulling my own weight now, do I get my sixty bucks back?” she joked. That was better than letting her frustration show.
He laughed, and made a show of pulling the money from his wallet and tucking it in her front pocket before he headed for the bathroom.
“Next time, do as I say. I mean it!” he called, but without the normal threat in his voice.
She stuck her tongue out at the door as the shower turned on. But she knew he was pleased with her. The pleasure she felt at that thought was dumb, considering he was clearly not interested in continuing what they’d started. But she cared for him, and maybe he cared for her a little, too, despite fighting it.
She lay back on the bed staring at her ring, and listened to him showering. It wasn’t long before she found herself fantasizing about being in that shower with him.
Silently she slid off the bed and walked toward the bathroom door.