Page 28 of Heathen

The woman has been practically held prisoner and she's worried about her job. I like the work ethic but she really needs to focus on priorities right now.

By the time she comes back into the room, I have the tacos split evenly on the small dining table.

Wordlessly, she takes a seat across from me and works on opening the first wrapper.

I wait until she has eaten the first taco, praying it takes the edge off of her hangry state before speaking.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about that place."

"I don't have any clean clothes, none of my personal things. This hotel was a bad idea."

"We can get you new things."

"There's no sense in getting new things when I have perfectly fine things at my house."

"Are you always this argumentative or are you simply trying to avoid the other conversation?"

"The other conversation makes me look really stupid."

"I'm sure you had a good plan," I cajole. "Let's talk it through.

She pulls in a deep breath and then tells me how the simplest of desires somehow turned into a situation of her putting her life in jeopardy.

Chapter 12

Kaylee

I don't know what I expected waking up in a hotel with a stranger who is technically my husband to be like, but it sure as hell wasn't to the scent of sugar, bacon, and coffee and the sounds of a daytime game show.

I walk into the living area, feeling like a bridge troll after having to put this ridiculous dress back on after my shower last night, to find Ellis sitting in front of the television with a plate piled high of food in nothing but a pair of blue jeans.

"Are you serious?" I mutter.

He looks away from the television at me, and I swear I can feel the sweep of his eyes on my legs.

"Did you sleep on the couch?"

"Where else would I sleep?"

I can hear the suggestion in his voice.

"You look... rested."

"How would you expect me to look?" he asks.

I wave my hand up and down to indicate myself, but his smile only grows as his eyes travel the length of me.

"You look fabulous," he says, and I can't seem to pinpoint the hint of humor in his tone, but I know it has to be there somewhere.

"Seriously?"

He shrugs. "Happy wife, happy life. Isn't that how the saying goes?"

I scoff, tugging at the hem of this stupid, itchy dress. "I need clothes."

He angles his fork, part of a pancake still clinging to it, toward a bag near the bedroom door.

"I grabbed some stuff from the gift shop."

---