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“Since it’s off-season here, the room is cheaper than usual, thank goodness. I’m close to the water, and it’s kind of homey…but it only has a queen bed. Maybe they have a rollaway I can sleep on.”
Before she’d finished speaking, Seth had the motel’s website on his phone. He sent Beck a scowl. The doctor scanned the image, then flashed him a what-the-fuck grimace. Glad to know they agreed. She was not spending another night in that shithole.
“We’ll see about finding someplace bigger.” Beck skirted possible confrontation. “Right now, go rest and relax, then check out of your motel. We’ll be there soon.”
“You mean…today?”
“Hopefully before dinner.” Seth vowed to make it happen.
“Oh, wow. That would mean so much to me.”
The relief in her voice was so sharp it nearly cut him. “We’ll do anything for you. You should know that.”
He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but not when she was grieving. Not when he couldn’t look into her eyes and show her how much he meant those words.
“Thank you. Text me your arrival time. I’ll pick you up. Pack warm clothes. You’ll need them.”
The second Beck ended the call, they both leapt off the couch and raced for the stairs.
The doctor tapped furiously at his phone, then pressed it to his ear. “Hey, Gloria.” He paused. “No. Everything is not all right. Seth and I are stuck here, and Heavenly’s an emotional wreck in Wisconsin. Can you ask your client if he has a jet in LA that can take us to her?”
As Seth darted into the guest room to repack the bug-out bag he’d taken to Vegas while simultaneously searching Bayfield for better accommodations, he prayed the redhead’s stellar connections would come through.
When he’d finished, he zipped his duffel shut. Anything he’d forgotten or didn’t have, he’d buy in Wisconsin.
Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he rushed out of the room and nearly plowed into Beck, who was doing the same.
“Was Gloria able to get us a plane?”
“Don’t know yet. She’s going to call me back.”
“I can’t sit here waiting for the damn phone to ring.” Seth gave zero fucks if he sounded like an ungrateful prick.
“I vote we head to Santa Monica airport. If we haven’t heard from Gloria by then, we’ll charter our own goddamn jet.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s get to our girl.”
After fighting the shitty LA traffic for what seemed like an eternity, Seth pulled into a parking space at the little airport. As he cut the vehicle’s engine, Beck’s cell phone rang.
The doctor whipped out the device and engaged the speakerphone. “Talk to me, Gloria.”
“How fast can you get your asses to the Santa Monica airport?”
Both men grinned. “We’re already here.”
“Good. You’re lucky bastards. I sweet-talked you both onto a flight that leaves in less than an hour.”
“Are you shitting me?” Beck barked.
“No…but there’s a catch,” Gloria warned.
Seth nearly groaned. “What?”
“You’ll be sharing the plane with some band heading to New York. I guess they’re a big deal.”
“Is it Licks of Leather?” Beck asked hopefully.
Seth turned to him. “That would be great. They’re awesome.”
