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She does, huh? “Why would you think that?”
“She told me she was going to. She asked me what I knew about you.”
Oh, this is interesting. “So why are you confused?”
“You turned her down, but you’re driving me home? I don’t get it. She was willing to…”
“Have sex with me?”
And Bethany isn’t. That’s her subtext as she nods. We’re both fully aware of that fact, so why bring it up? Because, maybe, she’s thought of me as more than a potential pal? If so, maybe refusing Montana will earn me more of Bethany’s trust.
“I know. The truth is, I’d rather drive you home,” I say.
Honestly, I’m not sure why I said no to Montana. She’s fun, easy on the eyes, and even easier to get into bed. What’s not to like? Back in North Dakota, she would have been the blessed cure for a blah Friday night. But now? Maybe I’m too into justice to give a shit about an uncomplicated lay.
Bethany blinks at me. “Thanks for making the sacrifice. You didn’t have to.”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice.” Spending time with Bethany is way more important than mindless sex. “I’m here on the island for a reason, and it’s not to get laid.”
“Wow. That’s a refreshing point of view,” she says, sounding even more surprised. “Can you head down Highway 36?”
“Sure,” I murmur. “Refreshing, huh? Someone in your life a man-whore?”
“You could say that.” Under her careful reply, there’s a story. I want to hear it. But her demeanor tells me this is another closed subject—for now.
She spends the rest of the drive giving me directions until we pull up at a place that’s seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I see a sign that reads Sunshine Coast Bed and Breakfast.
“You’re staying here?”
She nods. “This is Keeley’s business.” I must look confused because she rushes to add, “My oldest brother’s wife. She’s got a whole yoga, organic food, and happy times approach to running this place. I think what sells most people on coming here, though, is the killer view and the charm. They haven’t been open long, and she’s already attracting some famous people. My sister and her husband, Noah Weston, were married here, which put it on the map. Since then, one of President Hayes’s best friends, Dax Spencer, and his bride, Holland, honeymooned here. Rumor has it Shealyn West, that TV actress, and her new husband are coming here for their honeymoon, too. Keeley is really excited.”
“That’s great.” It’s impressive, but I’m more interested in the fact that Bethany is perfectly happy to chat—as long as the subject doesn’t get too personal.
I make a mental note to broach “safe” topics next time we’re together, lull her into letting her guard down.
“I’d give you a tour, but…”
It’s dark, and everyone is probably asleep.
“I’d love that.” Especially if it means locking her into spending more time with me so I can work her over. “Another time?”
As I pull up to the front and put the car in park, Bethany immediately opens the door like she can’t wait to escape. Then she pauses. “Thank you for the ride. I’m sure my brother thanks you, too. He already has to be up in two hours, so I have no doubt he appreciates you letting him catch as many Z’s as possible.”
“Really, it’s no problem. I’ll be happy to do it tomorrow, too.” I hope Ash will lend me his car again.
“Bethany,” I hear a man call somewhere past my left shoulder.
I turn my head to find a figure standing on the lanai. He’s tall. Even in silhouette, I can tell he’s well acquainted with the gym. I can’t make out his expression since he’s in shadow, but the warning vibes he’s sending my way are hard to miss.
She stands. “I’m here, Maxon. I’m sorry if we woke you up.”
“When I didn’t hear from you somewhere around two, I got worried. I sent a couple of texts…”
Bethany pulls her phone from her small purse. “Sorry. I didn’t hear them.”
Maxon steps into the light. Now I can read his expression. He’s wondering what I’ve been doing to his sister that precluded her from hearing her messages ding.
True, I don’t know this particular guy, but I know how most brothers think. Even if Bethany is new to their family dynamic, brothers—especially older ones, which Maxon is—are protective. He can either be my ally or my roadblock, depending on how I handle him.
I kill the engine of the car and step out, approaching Bethany’s brother, hand outstretched. “I’m Clint.” Shit. I need a last name. Obviously, I can’t tell her it’s Holmes. So I pull my mother’s maiden name out of my ass. “Clint Dietrich. Beth and I work together. I offered to give her a ride home.”
The expression I shoot him is designed to assure him that I would never hurt her.
