He glanced back at her. "I'm on a mission."
"To find a room?"
"Yes, Rosie, to find a room."
Her heart and stomach flipped at the serious urgency in his voice. She suddenly became acutely aware of the heat in his hand, now tight around hers as she hurried to keep up. God, she'd spent so much time worrying over losing him, she'd forgotten how utterly mind blowing having him was.
He led her to his Ford Escort. "Oh, you drove ..."
"Couldn’t carry your bags on my bike now, could I?" he grinned, opening the trunk and throwing her things in. He shut it back down and looked at her, the emotion in his gaze yanking her body into a hot captivity. He lowered his eyes, bringing that storm to her mouth. Her lips parted involuntarily, and he locked his gaze to hers again, sending her pulse racing. Dear God, there was a hurricane inside of him. And she stood right there, right in the eye of it till the hairs on her body stood erect from the need and longing he was ready to unleash on her.
Rosie never needed or wanted anything more. To be the one. The one he finally trusted, the one he picked to love. He'd picked her. He’d picked the girl that nobody ever picked.