Page 15 of Surrender

She crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because this is my motel. What happened this morning doesn’t sit right with me. You and your children are welcome to stay.”

“I can’t. If I can’t find somewhere, I’ll head back where we came from.” She fixes her gaze over my left shoulder as if she can’t bring herself to look me in the eye while she says it.

“There’s a blizzard coming today. It’s not safe for you to travel. Half the state is already being hit. Unless you’re heading north to Canada, you’ll drive right into it.”

“I don’t know what else you propose I do, Jack.” Her breath hitches on my name. I feel it settle in my gut as if she threw her fist at me instead.

I pause to breathe slowly through my nose and gentle my tone. “Stay. Until this afternoon. I’ll come up after my shift, and I can take you to my place. It’s about twenty minutes across town.”

“Jack, no—”

I hold up my palm to stop her. “You and your kids can stay there for a few days until the storm passes. I have a dedicated room here for myself already. I’ll show you where the house is and come back to the motel. You’ll have the place to yourselves.”

“I couldn’t—”

“I insist. It’ll be much more comfortable for everyone.” My attention shifts behind her to her kids. “You’ll sleep better there. All three of you,” I add for emphasis. The dark circles beneath her eyes thwart any attempt she might make to argue.

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, testing the boundaries with her hesitation. Then she nods. “Thank you.”

I wrap my fingers around the doorknob. “I’ll come back at four.”

Without waiting for her to respond, I drag the door shut between us.

On my way down the stairs, I decide to tell Hunter later that I’ll be joining him back at the motel tonight. Just in case she decides to hightail it out of here before I can stop her.

5

Whitney

Sweat coats my palms where I twist them around the steering wheel. Jack’s black SUV executes a left turn at the next stop sign. With my heart lodged firmly in my throat, I follow his path cut through the snow blanketing the road.

Swaths of gray cover the sky above me while fat flurries twist their way to the ground. The storm started about two hours ago, earlier than predicted. A part of me I refuse to acknowledge right now is grateful for Jack’s offer.

The same part of me refuses to acknowledge I’m about to stay at the house of my childhood crush.

Lord only knows how many nights I used to think about Jack Powell. How many daydreams I used to entertain about Bree and me falling in love with brothers so we could marry into the same family. How many teenage fantasies starred that boy who’s grown into a confident man. Who has no problem taking issues into his own hands and solves them.

He doesn’t know me from the next person who stops into this small town, but his kindness is touching. Because if I stop to think about it, any idea I had about packing up and leaving was fueled by panic and a lack of sleep. The last thing I want to do is head back to West Bend. Not after all I endured there. Not after all I fought to leave in the past and start over.

However this ends, I’ll have to find a way to thank him. Because with his help, I might just be able to get a decent night of sleep and not have to worry about bothering the strangers down the hall.

Jack pulls his SUV into the driveway of a single-story house at the end of a quiet street. The land surrounding the building stretches as far as I can see. Large patches of white snow are broken only by the silhouettes of trees. Snow crunches beneath my tires as I park my sedan behind him.

He’s out before I have the door open, hustling to my side of the car. He walks tall as if he can’t feel the frigid gusts of wind blowing against his neck.

“I’ll open the door, and you guys can go right in through the garage. Leave your bags here. I’ll get them.”

He leaves me dizzy with an argument on the tip of my tongue. I close my door with a quiet exhale and retrieve my kids. The cloud from my breath floats above my head.

“C’mon out, Lucy,” I say and unsnap her buckle for her to crawl from her car seat. She waits until I unhook her brother’s seat before climbing out the same door. By the time her small hand wraps around my fingers, Jack’s already returned.

“Just the bag from yesterday?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“You got a portable crib?”

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