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I’m still making notes on the envelope with the hotel pen when she returns, dressed and pink from the hot water.
I take her in, and the air in the room shifts, a vibration of want and need and something I can’t put my finger on, something I like. Almost . . . comfortable intimacy.
“Shit.”
“What? Is something wrong?” She starts to pack her things with neat, efficient bites.
I put my legs down from where they rest on the bed and get up from the armchair. “No. You. I want to take you back to bed.”
Her cheeks turn a darker pink and there’s a flash of a smile. “You just want another blow job.”
“I always want a blow job, especially if it’s you, Sarah.” I come up to her and breathe in that fresh cut flower scent. “But I also want to always eat you out and fuck you. In all the ways.”
“If you’re trying to entice me back to bed . . .”
“Maybe.”
She takes a breath. “Leland, I like you. I’m so attracted to you, I can’t see straight, but I’m not sure if I want to let someone in.”
“Me, you mean.” I close my eyes and bury my face in her hair as she leans back against me. “I can’t change who I am or was. And I can’t change my past.”
“I’m not . . . it’s not that. But you’re dangerous to me. I could fall, and that would hurt. And I’m not saying this because I want to take this anywhere. I know where you stand.”
“I—”
“No, please let me finish.” She turns to face me, and I open my eyes as she puts her hands on my chest, curling them there. “I know who and what you are. I’m still trying to do that with myself. And maybe I just want to be contained. I feel stronger that way. I’ve been on my own a long time, and I like it.”
I just nod and step back. “One day at a time. We’ll face that shit when it happens, if it happens.”
A loud clap of thunder almost shakes the room, and I go and sweep up her bags. “We should go. I’ll follow you, okay?”
She nods.
“And Sarah? Drive carefully. These roads get real slippery and dangerous fast in a storm.”
We’ve been driving for about thirty-five minutes when the storm catches us. Sarah’s ahead of me, and she’s a good driver.
I keep the radio off as I’m watching both the road and her.
She might be following all the rules, staying under the speed limit, but she also doesn’t know these roads.
In my head I can hear Lawson guffawing and calling me a mother hen for fussing. But I’m betting . . . no, I fucking know . . . if this was him and the woman in the car ahead of him was Dakota, he’d be worse than me.
Her car swerves a bit as lightning lights up the sky and she hits a slippery patch. My heart jumps to my throat.
The rain comes down heavy like a curtain and my hands sweat as I grip the steering wheel.
There aren’t many people out here, most have the good sense to stay in, and it’s early.
I start to relax when a black Range Rover comes speeding up and is heading straight for Sarah, driving her off the road.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sarah
The car comes from nowhere and almost hits me. I spin the wheel to swerve and lose control of the vehicle.
Ice spikes through me, but I lean into the spin and manage to pull out, and then I hit the brakes.
