minute ticked by on the electronic display.
At a loss for how to tackle the elephant in the room, she trailed a path over the sophisticated electronic console. “Is this car a holdover from your lawyering days?”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “Something like that.”
They’d managed to keep up an affable front after the sinfully good-looking sheriff had driven away in his cruiser, and Mitch had driven her to the “local” Target, twenty miles away. As they’d roamed the various aisles, he’d broken the ice with his wicked charm and teasing attempt to seduce her back to his house. She’d lapped it up, enjoying every second, because she’d known it would come to an end soon enough.
Even lunch had been heartbreakingly fun as he’d presented numerous closing arguments to sway her. But the bad mood lurking under the surface had reared its ugly head when she’d offered him gas money.
She scowled. What was the big deal?
He’d driven her around practically half the day and taken his time, effort, and resources to help her. It wasn’t a cardinal sin to pay her own way, although he clearly didn’t agree.
On the ride to the motel, the tension grew as discontent stirred like a boiling pot waiting to spill over.
Why wasn’t she happy?
With the backseat loaded with Target bags, and five hundred dollars in her pocket from the cash advance she’d taken from the ATM on her way out the door, she’d accomplished exactly what she’d wanted. Except what had she really proved? That given a credit card with a healthy limit, she could take care of herself?
She stared out the window at the motel that would be her home until her car was fixed. Rundown and decrepit, the sign advertised color TVs and vacancies, with the V blinking at intermittent intervals. The parking lot was littered with the usual cars and pickup trucks pulled into neat little rows outside their accompanying doors. A carport decorated with multicolored tinsel housed a pack of Harleys. Maddie didn’t know if the odd touch made the place more ominous, or less. She pointed at the strange sight. “Isn’t it a little early for Christmas decorations?”
The air conditioner blasted from the vents, rustling the plastic from the backseat.
“Please reconsider.” Mitch’s words were soft, yet firm, as if he was fighting back a demand he couldn’t quite leash. “I don’t want you staying here.”
She fixed her attention on the lobby door. The vacancy sign winked mockingly. She clutched the credit card more tightly. “I can’t.”
He turned, shifting in his seat, his long legs hitting the console. “Why?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. Why was this so hard? It should be easy to walk away. For all intents and purposes, he was a stranger: leaving should be simple. Her gaze dipped down to the door handle. The hard lump of guilt sat like a rock in her stomach.
What kind of a person was she that she’d had an easier time walking away from her wedding than getting out of this car?
Next to her, Mitch waited; the air was tense with everything unsaid.
He was different from Steve in that way. If she’d had this conversation with Steve, he would have answered his own question already. She traced her index finger along the cool metal door handle.
If he bothered to even ask the question in the first place. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “People have been taking care of me for so long, I can’t remember what it’s like to make my own decisions.” The confession surprised her. She hadn’t planned it.
“Go on,” Mitch prompted. That soft, low voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She craned her neck to look at him. The sun caught the dark gold of his hair, highlighting his warm skin and eyes. He was a beautiful man. He was rugged and powerful, a walking fantasy come to life, and he wanted her. Even more startling, she wanted him back, almost fiercely.
Maybe this was God’s idea of a practical joke. Or maybe it was just
At a loss for how to tackle the elephant in the room, she trailed a path over the sophisticated electronic console. “Is this car a holdover from your lawyering days?”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “Something like that.”
They’d managed to keep up an affable front after the sinfully good-looking sheriff had driven away in his cruiser, and Mitch had driven her to the “local” Target, twenty miles away. As they’d roamed the various aisles, he’d broken the ice with his wicked charm and teasing attempt to seduce her back to his house. She’d lapped it up, enjoying every second, because she’d known it would come to an end soon enough.
Even lunch had been heartbreakingly fun as he’d presented numerous closing arguments to sway her. But the bad mood lurking under the surface had reared its ugly head when she’d offered him gas money.
She scowled. What was the big deal?
He’d driven her around practically half the day and taken his time, effort, and resources to help her. It wasn’t a cardinal sin to pay her own way, although he clearly didn’t agree.
On the ride to the motel, the tension grew as discontent stirred like a boiling pot waiting to spill over.
Why wasn’t she happy?
With the backseat loaded with Target bags, and five hundred dollars in her pocket from the cash advance she’d taken from the ATM on her way out the door, she’d accomplished exactly what she’d wanted. Except what had she really proved? That given a credit card with a healthy limit, she could take care of herself?
She stared out the window at the motel that would be her home until her car was fixed. Rundown and decrepit, the sign advertised color TVs and vacancies, with the V blinking at intermittent intervals. The parking lot was littered with the usual cars and pickup trucks pulled into neat little rows outside their accompanying doors. A carport decorated with multicolored tinsel housed a pack of Harleys. Maddie didn’t know if the odd touch made the place more ominous, or less. She pointed at the strange sight. “Isn’t it a little early for Christmas decorations?”
The air conditioner blasted from the vents, rustling the plastic from the backseat.
“Please reconsider.” Mitch’s words were soft, yet firm, as if he was fighting back a demand he couldn’t quite leash. “I don’t want you staying here.”
She fixed her attention on the lobby door. The vacancy sign winked mockingly. She clutched the credit card more tightly. “I can’t.”
He turned, shifting in his seat, his long legs hitting the console. “Why?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. Why was this so hard? It should be easy to walk away. For all intents and purposes, he was a stranger: leaving should be simple. Her gaze dipped down to the door handle. The hard lump of guilt sat like a rock in her stomach.
What kind of a person was she that she’d had an easier time walking away from her wedding than getting out of this car?
Next to her, Mitch waited; the air was tense with everything unsaid.
He was different from Steve in that way. If she’d had this conversation with Steve, he would have answered his own question already. She traced her index finger along the cool metal door handle.
If he bothered to even ask the question in the first place. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “People have been taking care of me for so long, I can’t remember what it’s like to make my own decisions.” The confession surprised her. She hadn’t planned it.
“Go on,” Mitch prompted. That soft, low voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She craned her neck to look at him. The sun caught the dark gold of his hair, highlighting his warm skin and eyes. He was a beautiful man. He was rugged and powerful, a walking fantasy come to life, and he wanted her. Even more startling, she wanted him back, almost fiercely.
Maybe this was God’s idea of a practical joke. Or maybe it was just
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