A weird constriction seized my chest, peeling the scabs off old wounds I’d either forgotten about or had managed to ignore all of these years. Yeah, my childhood sucked ass, but I didn’t deserve sympathy. Not after all the terrible shit I’d done.

Chapter 12

WE DIDN’T talk after I told Seth I was sorry for what he’d experienced as a child, or in a way, what he hadn’t experienced. I had difficulty with my mom, but I still had my grandparents, and it sounded like Seth had no one. A huge chunk of me felt bad for Seth. I knew what it felt like to know you weren’t wanted—the sting and burn that existed inside of you every day knowing you were just an accident. You came into this world with your parent wishing they could undo the act that brought you there. That kind of knowledge festered, and it rotten and ruined parts of me even though I knew my mom, underneath it all, loved me.

The sky outside the Porsche faded from dusk to night. We hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other when we finally stopped for food. The burger didn’t settle well and another hour went by before he spoke again.

It was close to nine when his deep, slightly accented voice rolled through the dark interior. “I think we should stop for the evening. Get some rest and hit the road early so we reach your house by the afternoon.”

My stomach tumbled as I sat up straighter. “I think we can keep going. I still have a key to the house. We can let ourselves in, and we have an extra bedroom you can sleep in. I mean, we’re not too far from St. Louis, and it’s just another four hours or so from there.”

“I’ve been driving for about nine hours. I’m done.”

“I can drive.”

He snorted. “Not going to happen.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why not? You think I can’t drive? I can so drive. I could drive in NASCAR if I wanted to.”

His lips twitched as he shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m tired. I need to be alert, and that isn’t going to come from sleeping in the passenger seat while you’re playing NASCAR with a Porsche.” He slid me a long look, and in the dim light, his features were shadowed. “Are you nervous about staying another night with me, Josie?”

Whoa. He didn’t just hit that nail right on the head. He slammed that nail through the wood.

His gaze flickered back to the road as he eased the Porsche into the right lane. “Because tonight isn’t going to be the only night. You’re stuck with me, babe, at least until I get you to South Dakota.”

My mouth opened and then I snapped it shut. Irritation prickled across my scalp like a hundred fire ants had just done a dance through my hair. “I really do not like you.”

He chuckled darkly. “You don’t need to like me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I saw that.”

“Oh, there is no way you saw that!” I smacked my hands on my legs. “Unless you have, like, cat eyes or something.”

“I see better in the dark than a mortal does,” he replied. He was grinning that smart-aleck grin when I sent a death glare in his direction. “I think this is a good enough place.”

Folding my arms as he took the exit, I sat back and resisted the urge to throw a major hissy fit that would make a two-year-old proud. He picked the first lodging we came across.

“This isn’t even a hotel,” I pointed out as he turned into the gravel parking lot. “It’s a motel, as in the doors are on the outside. The kind of doors that serial killers kick in while you’re sleeping.”

“It’ll work.” He double-parked the SUV. “It’s not a high traffic area. Looks like only two other people are here, and if a serial killer kicks in our door, it’ll be the last door they’ll be kicking in.”

“It looks like the Bates Motel,” I muttered.

Seth laughed.

I hated his laugh. Okay, I didn’t hate his laugh. It was a nice, deep sound. He was already out of the Porsche by the time I unlocked my seatbelt. He tapped my window, a look of impatience settling into his features. I rolled my eyes again, and he responded by opening the door for me.

“Need help?” he offered. “I can pick you up, toss you over my shoulder, and carry you in.” He leaned in, placing one hand on the seat beside my leg. A strand of his hair fell loose, curving toward the corner of his lips. “We could pretend we’re newlyweds.”

I gaped at him. “No way.”

“Maybe they have a honeymoon suite. Oh, this sounds like a plan.” He stepped back. “I hope they have a heart-shaped bed.”

Sliding out of the seat, I gently slammed the door shut behind me and then shouldered past him. Did places really have heart-shaped beds? That was kind of gaudy.

He caught right up with me with his long-legged strides. “Stick close.”

I didn’t respond as he opened the door below the neon-pink OPEN sign. It was a small lobby, surprisingly clean and kind of cozy, full of country décor. Lots of baskets and red berries, green vines, and small, wooden ladders covered every square inch. The smell of vanilla and some kind of fruit was pleasant.

Seth strolled up to the desk and smacked his hand on the bell. A white door opened and an older lady bustled out, folding a magazine. She took one look at him and her mouth dropped open. He propped his hip against the counter, his lips forming into a slow grin that probably even had Granny fanning herself.

“I need a room for me and my girl,” he said in that voice of his.

Turning away, I rolled my eyes yet again and started inspecting the nearest basket. There were little toiletries inside. Cute. I moved along the shelf, coming to a set of baskets that appeared empty.

“Well, Sugah, we do have quite a few rooms tonight, so you’re in luck,” the lady said, and then Seth spoke, his voice low.

My fingers slipped over something smooth. I picked it up, and my mouth dropped open.

The baskets were full of condoms.

Oh my God. What kind of motel had baskets full of condoms in their lobby, in cute little woven baskets? I stared at the wrapper marked extra-large, ribbed-for-her-pleasure. Where were we and what kind of people typically stayed here?

“Josie.”

I turned to Seth. His gaze moved from me to my hand as his brows rose and his grin transformed into a heart-stopping smile that reached his eyes, lightening them and warming them up. Seth not smiling or smirking was beautiful, but him smiling? It was…wow. Breath-stealing.

And I was still holding the condoms.

Heat blasted my face.




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