AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“At least he doesn’t smoke anymore,” Max responded. “That’s good, isn’t it? I don’t want him to get a hole in his throat.”
Now that Max mentioned it, Preston realized he hadn’t had the desire for a cigarette in nearly two days. “Would you mind not keeping score of everything I do wrong?” he asked wryly.
Max gave him a devilish grin, and Preston would have grinned back. Except that Emma was still very serious.
“I want you to let us out.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’d be safer.”
“Life is a series of risks.”
“And this is just another risk for a man who doesn’t really care about living?”
He didn’t answer her. “Will you go through with what you said and send this to the DEA?”
She cast another concerned glance in Max’s direction. “If I knew the police would be able to use it to put him in jail for the rest of his life, yes.”
“Who’s going to jail, Mommy?” Max asked.
“No one you know, sweetheart.”
Preston waited until she focused on him again. “But you don’t think that’s a possibility?”
“I’m not even sure what this paper means, exactly. And even if—” she smiled at Max, who was now listening intently “—you-know-who went to jail, chances are good he’d get out again in a few years. Then he’d come after me.”
Preston thought of Vince. He had enough to do already. Why couldn’t he walk away from this? Why did he have to become involved?
Because he was starting to care about them—which was even more reason he should drop Max and Emma off at some car lot and let them make their own way from here on out.
But for the first time in two years, he didn’t need to think of a reason to get out of bed.
“HOW FAR IS IT to Iowa?” Emma asked as they crossed the Utah-Wyoming border.
Preston stretched his neck, then settled himself with one arm over the steering wheel. “From here it’s about eleven hundred miles.”
Eleven hundred miles. She’d never traveled such a great distance by car before. She would’ve tried to leave Manuel by plane, but she’d wanted the control only a car could provide—to change direction, to stop where she wanted, to move at a moment’s notice, to carry their luggage, to sleep in if she and Max got desperate. She’d also been hard-pressed for money and couldn’t afford an extra eight-hundred-dollar outlay.
“We go through Wyoming and then…” She rubbed her forehead, trying to decide if Interstate 80 clipped the corner of Colorado.
“Nebraska,” Preston said.
She wanted to study his face but kept her eyes on the road ahead. The more she came to know him, the more interesting and attractive she found him—which was surprising, since she’d considered him one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen when they first met. He was still gruff at times, remote with her and Max, hardened by his losses. But there were moments when his unexpected smile nearly stopped her heart.
“It seems I heard somewhere that Interstate 80 goes clear across America,” she said, trying to keep her mind on the conversation instead of the shape of his lips. She’d kissed those lips, felt them slide down her neck.
A flood of warmth made her sit up straighter.
“It does, for the most part,” he said. “It starts in San Francisco and goes to New Jersey.”
“Listen, Mommy.” Max pushed one of the buttons on the computerized toy Preston had given him when they stopped for lunch just outside Salt Lake City.
“B is for ball,” the computer said. “Can you spell ball?”
Max spelled it correctly, which resulted in a celebratory jingle and a computerized accolade. “Now spell cat.”
“See?” Max said proudly.
“Good job, honey. You’re learning.”
He grinned happily and went back to playing with his new toy.
“Buying that computer for Max was really nice of you,” she said to Preston. “It’s kept him occupied for over an hour, which means it’s a darn good toy.”
The side of Preston’s mouth kicked up, but he didn’t say anything.
Searching for a diversion from her preoccupation with the man sitting next to her, she turned to look out at the brown, treeless landscape, dotted only with scrub brush. “Have you ever been to Wyoming?”
“I’ve spent a few months here in the past couple of years,” he said as they started up a fairly steep grade.
“Doing what?”
“What I do everywhere.”
“And that is…”
“Day-trading.”
She allowed herself to look at him again—and admired the strong angle of his chin. “Are you very good at it?”
He shrugged, leaving the answer to that question a bit of a mystery. Judging by his car, Emma might guess he wasn’t too successful. But she was beginning to believe he drove what he drove out of a lack of concern, not a lack of money.
“So what’s this state like?” she asked.
“It’s pretty barren in most places. Right now we’re going into an area they call the Three Sisters.”
“What’re the Three Sisters?”
He waved a hand at the landscape. “What you see is what you get. They’re hills, basically. But they’re famous for bad weather in the winter.”
“That’s why I’ve seen so many signs about closing the highway in inclement weather.”
“This stretch isn’t as bad as Arlington.”
“Where’s Arlington?”
“You’ll see it. It’s just before we hit Laramie. Someone once told me they close Interstate 80 down there more often than at any other spot.”
She could hear Max spelling hat in the back seat. “I’ll bet Donner’s Summit outside Tahoe could compete for that honor.”
“Probably.” He turned off the radio because reception had deteriorated to static. “After we climb this, we’ll descend to Lazeart Junction, then go uphill again, until we’re east of the Leroy Interchange. The view there is spectacular.”
She was already enjoying the view—the view she had of him—even though she was trying hard not to think about how handsome he was. Developing a crush on the first guy to come along after Manuel was a terrible mistake, but she refused to be too hard on herself. Of course she’d feel something for Preston. He was helping her through a very difficult time. He acted protective, exuded a kind of battle-tried confidence she envied. What she felt was just gratitude—mixed with a great deal of appreciation for his fine physical attributes.
