AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Pictures of Vancouver flashed through her head at blinding speed. It was a beautiful place. Not as exotic as most of her dreams, but she’d love to go.
“I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “I can’t.”
His shoulders sagged. “Are you sure?”
No.Her eyes prickled, so she glanced up at the sky to stop any tears before they started. “I’ve got the garage. I can’t get away without planning.”
“Damn. We’ve never done it in Canada. I thought I’d try to pick up a little French along the way.”
Lori forced a wide smile. “You pick up the French. I’ll buy the Moosehead. We’ll meet back here on Tuesday.”
“Deal.”
She ducked her head under his chin and pressed her cheek to his chest. His heartbeat vibrated through her, thumping loud enough to chase away her sadness. “But keep your phone turned on in the meantime. I just might need you to drop everything and come running in the middle of the day.”
“Anything you say.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE BLACK SHADOWSof lodgepole pines flew by Lori’s open window. She was driving too fast, risking a run-in with a deer or, God forbid, a moose, so she forced her foot to ease off the accelerator but reached for the volume knob on the stereo at the same time and twisted it up.
The wind eased a bit, but the bass of angry old-school Liz Phair kept her frustration fed as she sped down the pass.
Vancouver. She wanted to go, wanted to stroll onto a big plane and drink champagne with her lover as they blasted across the sky toward another country. Canada wasn’t exactly Timbuktu, but it wasn’t Tumble Creek, either. She wanted to fly away for just a few hours.
But she couldn’t.
She’d realized a distasteful truth about herself the year before. Lori Love would date for travel.
An imaginary movie clip played through her mind. There she was, standing at an intersection in short shorts and crop top, waving a handmade sign that said just that: Will date for travel! The dot of the exclamation point was a little happy face. Hearts danced across the poster board. Her ass jiggled when she bounced.
Yes, she would date for travel. In fact, she’d done it already.
When she’d first met Jean-Paul, she hadn’t realized who he was. As far as she’d known, he’d been simply a handsome, older European man with a keen knowledge of cars. He’d also been driving the most beautifully restored Aston Martin DB6 she’d ever seen.
Jean-Paul had pulled into her garage by happenstance, troubled by a slow leak in his front tire. After they’d spent a half hour chatting, he’d asked her out, and Lori had been so surprised she’d said yes, regardless that she’d been only mildly curious about him.
Mysteriously, that mild curiosity had developed into a month-long relationship. Though she’d demurred every time he’d invited her out on the town, she’d spent the night at his place half a dozen times. She’d slept with him more often than that, retreating to his bedroom after a dinner prepared by his private chef. Jean-Paul had been smart and interesting, and more than decent in the sack. And he’d also asked her to accompany him on a trip to Greece within a week of their meeting.
It hadn’t been a conscious decision on her part. She hadn’t said to herself, “I will sleep with Jean-Paul D’Ozeville because he’s going to take me to Greece.” She’d never have had sex with the man if she’d realized she was only interested in him for his private jet and well-used passport.
But then Jean-Paul had broken the news that Greece would have to wait, something had come up and he couldn’t go until the fall. And Lori had been angry. Not disappointed, butangry.She’d made an excuse to get out of his bed at one in the morning and go home. Not her finest moment.
It had taken her a few days of avoiding his calls to realize why she didn’t want to see him. She wasn’t mad anymore. She was just…no longer interested. Not interested unless the man was going to fly her away to Greece within the next month.
Lori sighed at the memory, her stomach knotting itself with anxiety as she passed the road that led to her father’s land and drove into the outskirts of Tumble Creek. She knew the exact source of each light that shone through the dark, even the ones set far off the road. Knew each house and workshop, even if she wasn’t familiar with every person inside. This was her home, it always had been, and it would be her home until she cleared her own path out of it.
The relationship with Jean-Paul had taught her that, at least. She had to do it herself. It was too easy to mistake desperation or greed for more genuine feelings. Too easy to use sex as a resource. She’d cheapened herself and lied to both of them in the process.
What she had with Quinn was real, at least. It was real lust and she’d already disclosed her sexual greed. They were equals in this game, and she wasn’t going to let herself fall into the role of the cheap mistress again.
But regardless of her big ideals, it had still been hard to say no to Vancouver.
She’d have to try out a poor man next time she decided to use a man for sex, because her scruples were just a bit too mushy in this area. And she never, ever wanted to wake up to the realization that she’d slept with another man for the cost of jet fuel.
As she pulled into her lot, Lori was so absorbed in those depressing thoughts that she had nearly turned all the way into her parking space before her brain registered something amiss.
The shadows on the two bay doors of the garage looked…odd. Distorted. And her headlights picked up flashes of reflected light on the ground as she swung around.
