That was easy. “Pineapple,” she shared, proudly. “Have you ever tried one?”
“Sure. Lots.”
She tripped. “What do you mean bylots?”
He gave her a confused glance. “I mean that I’ve eaten pineapple a lot. Just like I said. What’s the big deal?”
“Over five?”
“Five pineapples? Yeah?” His brows pulled tight. “I’ve been to Hawaii three times, plus it’s at every hotel breakfast buffet.”
“This is most shocking news.” Lizzy tried to grasp what he was saying and failed. “You’ve traveled to the islands of Hawaii?”
“Yeah. Once with my parents on vacation, once in college, and once with a girlfriend.”
Lizzy couldn’t keep up. “How many pineapples have you eaten?”
He barked out a laugh. “This is the absolute last question I think I ever would have imagined answering.”
“They are rare here, and very, very expensive. I had a taste of one at a Christmas dinner eight years ago.” She sighed wistfully. “I’ve never forgotten the flavor.”
“I didn’t realize. Dang. If I’d known, I’d have stuffed one in my pocket to time travel with.”
The inn came into view in the distance, the Crown and Horns.
She sighed. “We’ll wash up and eat a very boring dinner without a single pineapple to be had.”
At the inn, the keeper was flushed from the bustle of patrons. “I don’t have as many rooms as I’d like,” she said. “You’ll have to be sharing. The lads can go into the barn. The two ladies in the room at the top of the stairs, the three gents can go to the one at the end of the hall, and my siblings here...” Her voice drew out, holding more than a trace of sarcasm. “You get the attic.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Lizzy breathed, her heart dropping into her stomach.
“Not unless you want to go with the two ladies in the room at the top of the stairs.” The innkeeper arched a brow as if daring Lizzy to take the offer.
And listen to more prattle about highwaymen? Lizzy would prefer to do anything but. The attic it was.
When they entered their room, she gripped the doorframe for support. It was a tight space with one window, the glass coated with dirt and grime.
And pushed up under the sloping roof was a single sagging bed.
Chapter Twelve
The room resembled a dust bunny orgy, but the sheets, at least, appeared clean. “I think we’ll be fine for tonight, but I wouldn’t recommend touching or licking anything,” Tuck said, immediately regretting his choice of words.
Lizzy was rummaging through her trunk, focused like a squirrel searching for an acorn. For a moment, it seemed she had missed his comment entirely, but then she murmured, “And where shallyousleep?”
Her tone was a bit too casual.
She missed nothing.
“I’ll rough it on the floor.” Tuck gestured toward his own leather case with a half shrug. “There’s a coat in there. I’ll make do. I’m a pro at sleeping anywhere, anytime.”
His teammates had envied that about him; they’d hop on a plane, and he’d be snoring before takeoff. His secret was simple: he’d close his eyes, take a few deep breaths, and imagine a scene from his childhood. Usually, he pictured rural Michigan, with rows of faded corn husks in a snow-covered field and a few flurries silently falling. He never shared this image with anyone; it sounded too bleak to be a believable happy place. But the sense of emptiness always relaxed him, even during treatment.
But right now, Lizzy’s grimace as she surveyed the stain-splotched wood commanded his full focus. “That floor doesn’t look as though it’s been given a proper scrub since the reign of Queen Anne.”
“Don’t worry. I’d rather have you be comfortable.”
She glanced his way. Her gaze felt like a language he’d once known, leaving him with an unsettling sensation. It was as though, if he concentrated hard enough, he might decipher the meaning behind her eyes.
