Thankfully, the motel has a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and a small travel-size toothpaste I can use, saving me from doing a finger brush. I was going to skip a shower, until I see that I still have dirt streaked across my face and bits of leaves in my hair from the attack the night before. So I take what has to be the fastest shower of my life and then suck it up and ask Becks to bring my duffel so I can change my clothes.
I’m not about to pull what he did and walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Although maybe if I did, he’d get a taste of his own medicine.
In less than thirty minutes, we’re back in his SUV, barreling down a country road. In the light of day, the ride should be beautiful. Late fall has stripped most of the trees bare, their branches skeletal against the pale sky, while what leaves remain cling in muted rusts and dull golds or blanket the ground in brittle drifts. It’s the kind of quiet, understated beauty you have to slow down to appreciate, but it’s lost on me.
“I’d like to check in on my parents,” I say, and before I get the last word out Becks is already shaking his head.
“Pull over,” I order.
Becks flicks a glance at me, his brows high on his forehead. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
His abs are safely hidden underneath his soft heather gray t-shirt, so I’m not a flustered mess anymore. At least not much. I still have to contend with his perfectly symmetrical and chiseled face, but I won’t let it sway me.
“Haven—” he starts, but I cut him off with a firm, “Now.”
With a sigh, Becks steers the SUV off to the shoulder. After throwing it in park, he turns in his seat to look at me.
Do not be affected by the hotness, Haven. If you don’t assert yourself now, he’s going to walk all over you.
Even with the internal pep talk, I pick a spot in between his brows to stare at rather than his piercing green eyes.
“I want to acknowledge that I understand that you are trying to protect me, and in order to do that, we have to keep a low profile . . . ”
Becks cocks his head, like he didn’t expect me to lead with that, but I know he’s not going to love what comes next.
“But having said that, I’m my own person and I’m not okay with you making decisions and expecting me to go along, all ‘Sir, yes, sir.’ I’m taking our situation very seriously. I’d like to think we can work together, but less than twelve hours ago I left my dad lying on the floor, bleeding out.”
As I’m talking, my eyes start to sting, and I hate that. I wish I could stand my ground without getting emotional to show him how strong I am, but the thought of my dad with a knife buried in his side is too much.
“I don’t just want to know that he’s okay. I need to know. Do you understand?”
The glower that was starting to form on Becks’ face softens as our eyes finally connect.
Sighing again, he runs a hand through his hair, sending the golden and honey strands in wild directions. My hands itch to see if those locks are as soft as they look, so I clench them in my lap as I wait for his response.
What he says next is going to dictate if this partnership is going to work. Because if he just expects me to blindly follow orders without having a say, he has another thing coming.
Finally, he nods. “I was going to wait a few days, but I can pick up a burner phone and reach out to Talon.” When he sees my immediate smile, he’s quick to add, “But this can’t be a regular thing, okay? Every interaction we have until we figure out if there’s a traitor in the Order is a risk.”
I clap my hands together and give a little happy shoulder shimmy, relieved that he isn’t fighting me on this.
“What was that?” he asks, arching a single brow.
“What?”
He points at me, his finger moving back and forth between my shoulders. “That little shake thing you did.”
Heat shoots to my cheeks yet again, and I wonder if I’ll ever not blush in front of this man.
“That was my happy dance,” I say, ducking my head.
“Hmm,” he answers, and I glance up to find a half-smile on his face. “Cute.”
With that, he puts the SUV in drive, and smoothly pulls us back on the road, completely oblivious to how flustered his casual sweetness leaves me.
Eleven
