“I mean, it all fits with what we know.”
But it felt off. She could tell he thought so too.
“Here’s the thing. This virus has only affected a tiny number of people. Why would a treatment for it—or protection from it—be such a hot property? Why would that justify searching my old house and dealing with my ex-husband? I don’t even want to deal with him!”
He passed a hand across his forehead, as if trying to concentrate. “It’s not just you. Someone ambushed Lachlan to send me a message to back off. ”
“Yes. Someone is going to great lengths to get us to lay off. A plant-based protection for a barely-known virus doesn’t seem worth it.”
He frowned at the table and traced a pattern in the ring of condensation under his beer. She looked at him more closely, noticing that his skin looked clammy and little pale. He probably needed some food. Their pizza was taking so long.
And what about sleep? She’d slept on the drive to Fairbanks, but he hadn’t.
“Listen, let’s take our pizza to our room,” she suggested gently. “We can watch a movie while we eat.”
He nodded, and signaled to their waiter, who agreed to bring their order to their room as soon as it was ready.
Ani watched Gil closely as they rose to their feet. Was that a stagger? He straightened up and rolled his neck. He must be so exhausted. How much had he slept in Bob’s little cabin in the wilderness? He’d probably stayed awake most of the night to guard them.
The man was a rock, but he wasn’t Superman.
They headed for the room, and she made a show of leaning against him as if she was the tired one. He put his arm around her shoulder. Did he realize that he was leaning on her, just a bit? She couldn’t tell.
A little stonework pathway led around the pizza shop to the rental rooms out back. Distracted by her worry for him, she stumbled on the edge of one of the stones.
“I got you.” He bent and scooped her into his arms. Maybe he was perfectly fine; he didn’t seem to feel her weight at all.
She relaxed and smiled at him. “You keep doing that. Isn’t this the third time?”
He ignored her protest—which was pretty weak, to be honest—and carried her the remaining few yards to their room. “It’s my thing. I’ve decided it’s my thing. I like feeling you in my arms.”
Her heart glowed. She could get used to this.
Don’t, she warned herself. This was most definitely a “for now” type of situation. They’d go their separate ways soon enough. Enjoy it, but don’t get used to it.
30
Inside their room, Gil set Ani down more quickly than he’d intended. His arms felt weak; too much sex, not enough food.
He leaned against the doorjamb while Ani went to the bathroom to get him a drink of water. The covers were still mussed from all the tumbling around he and Ani had done earlier.
“That pen,” he called to her. “With the tracker.”
She came out with a plastic cup of water. “Yes, what about it? It’s sitting at the Reel Inn in pieces.”
“It seemed to mean something to you.” He’d noticed her expression when he’d dismantled the thing. But he’d had no choice; he’d picked up on John’s sketchy behavior, the way he’d brought that specific pen, one she’d be unable to resist.
“It has sentimental value,” Ani said. Her voice seemed to come from far away. “My friends gave it to me when I was in the hospital, along with a journal for me to write in. That journal saved my sanity, I swear.”
He squinted to bring Ani into focus. A stab of pain hit him right behind the eyeballs. He shook it away. “I’m sorry I destroyed it. I could tell it meant something to you. I should have?—”
“It’s okay. Please don’t worry about it. You were protecting me.”
His head throbbed again. He was having trouble ordering his thoughts, and sweat sprang to his forehead. The room felt like a sauna. Why did they have the heat so far up in here? Focus. There was something he’d been wanting to mention that he hadn’t so far.
“That tracker was state-of-the-art.”
Her eyes widened. “What are you saying?”