Page 39 of All I Want For Christmas

“Yeah, I know, bad luck, huh?” Christian said with an affable smile. “We have two cars. We were thinking of just leaving the one here and heading on to Lexington.”

They were? That was news to her.

“Do you think that’s our best bet?” Christian continued. “You know the towing companies around here and you know the roads. What do you think?”

“You can’t drive to Lexington,” the man said, shaking his head. “The highway south of this exit is closed. Guess it iced over badly at the curve and they declared a snow emergency. Only emergency vehicles allowed on the road. It was on the news.”

“Are you serious?” Blue asked, slightly stunned. Did they really just close roads? Was that allowed? “Is there another way to go south?”

“Well, there’s always Route 43, but I wouldn’t recommend that. It won’t be plowed and if you get in trouble, there’s nowhere to go for help. I suggest you sit this one out tonight and start over again in the morning.”

“But...”

She was speechless. Absolutely speechless. This sucked. Really bad. Like if there were the definition of suck in the dictionary this would be it. Christian put a hand on the small of her back and rubbed gently. It was an unexpected reassurance. Thank God she’d hit him—with her car, that is—and wasn’t doing this on her own. Not that he would probably appreciate that fact, but she was damn grateful.

“Is there a motel hereabouts?” Christian asked. “I’m not digging the idea of sleeping in my car tonight. I’ve stopped at this exit before and I seem to remember there’s a motel just on down the road.”

Noticing that the longer they stood there the more Christian’s Kentucky roots surfaced, Blue was amused. “On down the road?” she asked, grinning.

“What?” He looked bewildered.

“Nothing.” Blue squeezed her lips together as she glanced at the gas station attendant. He looked equally confused.

“Well, yeah, there’s old Roy’s place, but I’m not sure if he’ll be open tonight. It’s called the No-Tell Motel.”

Fabulous. They might as well call it Serial Killers and Other Criminals Sleep Here. Blue tried not to make a face, but giventhe grin Christian shot her she wasn’t successful. What could she say? All her thoughts were always splashed across her face, an unfortunate gift her emotional mother had given her.

“It’s about a half mile east.”

“Is that right or left?” Blue asked. Men always spoke in terms of north-south-east-west and it just made it more complicated than it needed to be.

They both raised an eyebrow like this was the dumbest thing they’d ever heard.

“I got it,” Christian said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“O-kay then,” Blue said, the eye roll slipping out before she could stop it. “But shouldn’t I call for my tow first?”

Ten minutes later she was gritting her teeth and glaring at the yellow pages in front of her. The yellow pages. She hadn’t even realized those still existed. “I’ve called every tow service in the county and not a single one has answered their phone.”

Gas Station Man shrugged. “Told ya.”

“Don’t people need to work? Aren’t we in a recession?”

Another shrug. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

Whatever. Blue slapped the book closed and turned to Christian. “What are you doing?” she asked, irritated beyond belief with the whole situation. Even Christian’s cuteness couldn’t make up for the fact that everyone else’s obsession with Christmas was ruining her vacation.

Christian had a shopping basket loaded with bottled water, soft drinks, and a massive quantity of snack foods.

“We have to eat. And I doubt this particular motel has room service.”

The guy behind the counter snorted. “You’ll be lucky if you get clean sheets.”

Lovely.

“Do they rent by the hour?” Christian asked, his tone joking.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” The guy cleared his throat. “Not that I’d know anything about that. Though be careful, if you go over even a minute, Roy charges for a whole ’nother hour.”

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