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“Oh, Christ, Sadie.” I can’t stop myself. Her beautiful eyes are staring up at me, and I feel like she’s going to swallow me whole. I squeeze my eyes shut, head full of her, and come faster and harder than I have in years.
CHAPTER4
Sadie
Over the next few days,I catch glimpses of Daniel when he comes and goes. I try not to be disappointed when he doesn’t talk to me, but there’s something about him that makes me want to climb into his brain and find out what’s behind those eyes that are so sad except for when he’s looking at me. And when hedoescome up to my counter, it’s like Christmas morning. I have no idea why I get so worked up around him. Maybe it’s just the fact that I don’t get a lot of interesting people coming through here—not interesting in his way, at least. We’ve chatted here and there, but it’s always about me. He gracefully deflects my attempts to find out more about him, and I get the sense that he’s trying to hold me at arms’ length, but it’s only making me more curious.
I’m on the phone one afternoon with a guest who’s making a last-minute booking, my gaze wandering around the lobby, when the door chimes. Daniel walks in, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His appearance is a pleasant distraction, and I hold up a finger, asking for a moment as I continue my call.
His eyes skim the room before landing on me. He moves toward the counter, reaching into his pocket to pull out a broken keycard, which he places on the counter with a soft click. He raises a brow at me, the hint of a smirk on his face.Sorry, he mouths.
A laugh bubbles up inside me, but I give him a mock-stern look, shaking my head. It’s the second time in as many days that he’s come to my counter with a damaged keycard.Clumsy,I mouth back to him, and he twists his features into an exaggerated expression of offense. As I continue to confirm the guest’s reservation details over the phone, he leans on the counter, his eyes sparkling with amusement, and draws a stick figure with tousled hair and a beard like his, cartoonish sorrow on its round face.
“Sorry to trouble you again,” he says when I finally hang up.
“No worries,” I say. “But if you get a third strike, I’ll have to take away your card privileges and let you in and out of your room myself.”
He picks up the new card I just placed on the counter and studies it thoughtfully. “That makes me want to snap this in half right now,” he says, looking back up at me. My cheeks immediately burn. I turned this conversation inappropriate. “Sorry,” I mutter, looking away. “I—“
“Hey,” he says, leaning over the counter again and gently turning my face back to him. “You don’t ever have to say you’re sorry to me.” His expression is soft but serious now, and involuntarily, I nuzzle my cheek into his palm, feeling his rough skin against mine.
He yanks his hand away, and I throw mine over my mouth. What the hell is wrong with me? I start to apologize, but he just turns away, new keycard in hand, and ambles away on those long, muscular legs. I’m too mortified even to call out an apology.
Great, Sadie. You’re sexually harassing guests now? Nice work.
* * *
The motel is almost eerily quiet tonight, and I’m alone at the front desk as usual, flipping through a magazine in an attempt to stay awake. The sudden creak of the door opening sends a shiver down my spine, and I look up, instantly on high alert. A man with a hood pulled low over his face and a bandana obscuring his mouth strides into the dimly lit lobby. Every instinct I have screams danger, and my heart pounds in my chest as he approaches the desk.
“I want a printout of all the credit card information in that computer,” he snarls menacingly, brandishing a gun that glints in the low light. Terror claws at my throat, making it difficult to breathe, and my hands tremble as I fumble to open the cash drawer. I’ve never faced anything like this before, and my mind races with frantic thoughts about what could happen to me if I don’t give him what he wants. My vision blurs at the edges, and I feel the cold sweat of fear as I desperately try to keep my composure.
I guess I take too long to respond because the man fires a shot into the ceiling. I cry out in terror and fumble with the keyboard, trying to get my trembling fingers to cooperate.
A moment later, Daniel appears, his eyes blazing with anger. The would-be robber’s eyes widen, and before he can react, Slash charges at him. He disarms the man with one swift move, sending the gun skittering across the floor.
“Think you can come in here and threaten her?” her growls, his voice low and dangerous. He moves with lightning speed, pushing the attacker back against the wall.
“You fucked with the wrong girl,” he snarls. Before I know it, there’s a knife in Daniel’s hand, and he’s holding it to the man’s throat. When the robber reaches for his belt, Daniel slams his head into the wall. The attacker slumps to the floor, lifeless.
My heart pounds as I stare at the lifeless body on the floor, and a wave of terror washes over me. I’ve never witnessed such violence before, and the reality of what just happened leaves me shaking uncontrollably. I should be grateful that Daniel saved me, but all I can think about it that I just watched a man die.
“He’s not dead,” Daniel says, seeing the horror on my face. “Look.” I glance down and see that the man’s chest is rising and falling. I watch, mesmerized, trying to reconcile what I’m seeing with the certainty I felt a second ago that the man was dead.
Daniel’s footsteps approach me, snapping me back to the present. He reaches out, concern etched on his face, but I flinch involuntarily. I don’t know how to process the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling.
The room feels like it’s closing in on me.
The sound of sirens shakes me out of my fog, and I remember that I hit the panic button when Daniel shoved the man away from me. I only half-expected it to work, given the state of disrepair and neglect of this place, but it did, and the parking lot is suddenly filled with flashing lights.
The police quickly take control. A medic hauls the robber away, and Daniel stands with me, half blocking me from the officers while they interview me. When they finally have all they need from me and tell me I can go home, Daniel says, “You can’t drive, Sadie. You’re in shock. I can take you home on my bike if you want. Can I do that?”
I consider the offer. My adrenaline is draining fast, and I don’t think I can even stand for much longer, let alone sit upright on the back of a motorcycle. I have no idea what possesses me to do it, but after a moment, I say, “Can I… could I maybe stay with you? I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.”
Without hesitation, he nods, and I let him scoop me up in a bridal carry. As he carries me to his room, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of intimacy enveloping us, despite the ridiculousness of me being carried through the halls of the Packwood Motel. I’ve been in all the rooms of this motel countless times, but never like this – never with him. His presence transforms the space, making it feel entirely new.
He sets me down gently on the bed, and I immediately notice his masculine scent lingering in the air, a mixture of leather and something uniquely his own. The powerful attraction I feel toward him grows stronger, making my pulse race.
Seemingly oblivious to the effect he’s having on me, he moves to take a seat in the corner of the room. “I’ll stay right here, all night,” he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
