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And it was a Hummer.
Not many of that make in these parts.
He walked up to the driver’s door and peered in the window. A few items were piled on the passenger seat—a rodeo flier, a woman’s denim jacket and a scarf with the same stars and stripes as the one Trinny had been wearing for the opening ceremony.
Bingo.
He circled the truck and walked straight to the motel office. A cute redhead seated behind the front desk looked up at him. Appreciation flickered through her eyes, and a smile spread across her face. “Aren’t you one of the Abel brothers?”
“Yeah. I’m lookin’ for somebody who might be staying here. Brown hair. About this tall.” He held up a hand to Trinny’s height.
The redhead eyed him. “I’m not allowed to give out any information about the guests.”
He could just stroll down the line of doors and knock on each, or he could simply stand at Trinny’s truck and wait for her to come out.
The scent of coffee filled the space. A restaurant-grade coffeemaker was set up in the corner with cups and a box of doughnuts he recognized from a local bakery on offer.
He twitched his head toward the coffee. “Mind if I…?”
The redhead shook her head. “Help yourself.”
He poured some coffee into a paper cup and topped it with cream. With a nod to her, he headed out of the office. The fresher scent of the mountains hit him, along with some trash in the nearby dumpster that made him walk faster toward the first room. He lifted his fist and knocked underneath the number 1 on the door.
A grunted male response came. “I don’t need housekeeping!”
Unlikely Trinny was inside with a guy. She’d just come from Jaren’s bed, and had no reason to seek any other satisfaction.
The second door he knocked on, he received no response. Assuming it was unoccupied, he continued to the third. The white Hummer was parked close to this room. If he had to make a guess, he’d say door number three hid the woman he was searching for.
He rapped on the wood. Damn, he didn’t like how hollow these doors sounded. Anybody with a little muscle could kick it off the hinges.
Listening hard for movement inside, he knocked again.
Then he heard the deadbolt twist and the door cracked a couple inches. The only thing keeping him from the woman inside was a cheap, thin chain.
When he looked into the familiar set of hazel eyes, his chest swelled.
Trinny stared at him for a long beat. “Shit,” she whispered before opening the door.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded tight, choked almost.
He held up the cup in his hand. “I brought coffee. We need to talk.”
* * * * *
In her favorite sweatpants and a white tank top with a designer logo across the front, Trinny wasn’t exactly dressed for company.
Then her new way of thinking caught up to the old and nudged her worry away. Why should she care what people thought about her anymore? Just because she was raised to always look the part, dress the part,playthe part, didn’t mean she couldn’t drop all that and just…live.
Which she was doing now. Or trying to.
Jaren extended the paper cup toward her, and the fragrant smell of coffee hit her senses.
“Thank you.” She took it from him, aware of the brush of her fingers over the backs of his when she curled them around the warm cup.
He didn’t seem to notice the touch, though. He was too busy inspecting her tiny room. He pivoted to take in the double bed with the ugly bedspread crumpled on the floor, still where she’d tossed it when she took up occupancy of the room.
Her open suitcase sat on top of an old chipped and battered dresser she would never, ever in a million years want to put her clothes into for fear of vermin. The jeans she’d stripped off last night hung out of the opening. Her tan cowgirl boots were positioned just as carelessly on the worn carpet where she’d kicked them off in the wee hours of the night after making it in from Jaren’s place.
