Page 30 of Broken-Hearted

I shake my head and turn away, focusing on the trees outside my window. “No, you can’t.”

We make good time, only stopping to fill up the tank at a gas station or for fast food at a drive-thru. I periodically check the rear-view mirror, and I catch Nathan doing the same. There is no sign of a green Ford anywhere.

“The sooner we get home, the sooner you’re safe,” he says when I ask him why we’re not parking up somewhere to eat.

I take the paper wrapped burger he’s struggling to unwrap with one hand as he drives. “Don’t you mean the sooner you get me to Hardin, the less chance I have of changing my mind along the way?”

I hand him the unwrapped burger, and he smiles at me. “Thanks, peach. Something like that.”

“Let me know when you want your fries,” I say as I pick up my burger.

“So you can feed me?” There’s a sparkle in his eyes.

“So we won’t crash into a tree and explode into flames while you’re busy trying to dunk fries into ketchup,” I say dryly.

But that’s not all it is.

I’d prefer to be on my own so no one else can get hurt saving me. But there’s something nice about having someone watching your back. Not just someone. Nathan.

We’re on the road for hours. It was stupid to hope we’d make the hours-long drive in one day. The sun is disappearing into the horizon when Nathan pulls the car off the highway and into a motel parking lot.

I look at him and narrow my eyes. “This had better not wind up in a one bed situation, Blackshaw.”

His expression is innocent. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He’s out of the car before I can reach for my seat belt, and I’m not even the least bit surprised when he’s back a couple minutes later, opening my door before I can.

“Would you believe me if I told you they only had one room with one bed left?”

“Not really.” I peer through the glass-fronted motel reception. The counter is tall, but I can just about make out a computer and the top of a man’s gray head behind it. “If I went in there and asked him, he would lie because you paid him to, wouldn’t he?”

“Medo a thing like that?” Nathan grins. “Come on. I could do with a shower and brushing my teeth.”

Same.

After greasy fast food and sugary sweet sodas, not even the mints we sucked on helped get rid of the need to clean my teeth.

I climb out of the car and Nathan slams my door shut, grabbing a small black duffel from the trunk before he leads the way to our room.

Yes, I could argue, but I haven’t forgotten the only reason I have a motel room to sleep in is because he’s paying for it. I could offer to sleep in his car overnight, but with the way Nathan has been, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be sleeping in the car alone.

I’m ahead of him, yet he beats me to the motel room door, unlocks it and swings it open, stepping aside. “After you, peach.”

I take a step inside the beige, ordinary motel room I was expecting and grind to a halt. “What isthat, Blackshaw?”

8

Nathan steps around me, shutting the door with a click. “Thatis the two queen-size beds I asked for when I booked this room for the night.”

I’m not sure whether to laugh or punch his arm. “You said they only had one bed.”

He drops his bag at the foot of the bed in the far corner and toes his boots off, flashing me a tired smile. “I lied.”

“Why?”

He shrugs on his way to a closed door that must lead to the bathroom.

“Nathan?” I block him, his answer more important to me than it should be. “Why did you get two beds?”

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