Chapter Nine
Justine noticed two things when she arrived for work in the morning. First, the office she shared with Sawyer was empty of all furniture. And the second, Leo King. Leo stood in the middle of the office and gave her an uncomfortable glance.
Sawyer scowled at her. In response, sort of as a diversionary tactic, she turned to Leo and patted him on the arm. “Good to see you.”
He shook his head with a smile, apparently unwilling to help her distract Sawyer. “Mm-hmm.”
Sawyer squinted. “What happened here?”
“You’ve been punked?” She exchanged a look with Leo. “No. Well, then I bet your things are in the new office I scored us. You can thank me later.”
“New office. And where is that?”
“Don’t know, exactly.” She cringed under his silent stare. “Would you like me to try to find out?”
With a nod, he turned his back to her. She looked around the office, but it was all gone, including the phone. “Oh!” She opened her purse and pulled out her cell to dial the switchboard and ask for Veronica.
She turned back around. “She’s connecting me.”
“Well, that might not work since we’re not there, princess.”
“Maybe you should go outside and listen for a ringing phone then, smart ass,” Justine said. “Oh! Veronica, I’ve never been so happy to hear anyone’s voice. Where are you?”
She took directions to the new office and ended the call. “See? Problem solved. Veronica says the new office is awesome.”
She led them to the elevator and up three floors. “She didn’t say that, but I bet it is.”
At the end of the hall, they walked into an office twice the size of Sawyer’s old one.
Leo whistled. “Nice.”
“Yes, it is. One might even call it awesome.” She shot a meaningful look at Sawyer. “I know! Let’s hire a designer to decorate. I see big pink cabbage roses on the walls. And pink velvet drapes.”
“I’m putting you down as the reason when they ask why I left my last job.” Sawyer poked through boxes.
Veronica strolled into the office. She seemed to have a perpetual perky smile. If she hadn’t been so nice to Justine, it would’ve been annoying. “Can I get anyone anything? Coffee?”
“God, yes,” Sawyer groused from his chair.
“No, no you can’t. She’s not the coffee wench, either. He can get his own damn coffee.”
“For a rich brat, your sense of entitlement is seriously lacking.”
“I find it enlightening to do things for myself, like answer phones and pour hot beverages.”
“You kids are so cute. I almost hate to leave.” Leo pulled a sheaf of folded papers from his back pocket. “My contract.” He winked at Justine. “You own me.”
Veronica snorted. “Rich girls have everything. No one ever says, ‘Would you like a boy toy, Veronica?’ Why is that?”
“He’s not a boy toy.” Justine put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile. “He’s more like my minion.”
Leo looked at Sawyer. “They’re evil.”
“Tell me about it.” Sawyer extended his hand and shook Leo’s. “We’re glad to have you on board.”
After Veronica showed Leo out, Justine whirled around. “Are you angry about the office? Because, come on, this is a nice office. And I was joking about the pink roses. Mostly.”
“The office is fine. And I know you were joking. Roses are too normal for you.”
“True.” He glanced around the room, empty except for boxes. Bright sunlight streamed over everything through a wall of windows.
He thumbed through his things, boxed on his desk, dropping them in drawers and folders. “Why are you in such a good mood, anyway?”
“I don’t know. I feel so…different.” She picked up one of the paintings from his old office and lifted it to the wall. Where did he even get these pieces? They were all so generic. They didn’t say one thing about him. “It’s like maybe things are getting better. Why are you in such a bad mood?”
“Probably because I was up all night trying to figure out how to get Liann Linell for the show.”
“If I were going to stay up worrying, it’d be about this terrible artwork.”
He snorted. “You know what? Since you’re so hell bent on thinking outside the box, let’s get out of here. You’re in too good of a mood to unpack.”
“And go where?”
“I know a place.”
She agreed getting out of the office was an excellent idea, until he drove her to a bar
At eleven in the morning. Who went to a bar at eleven a.m.? It was fine, though. He was trying to be friendly and helpful. Maybe this was where he came to think work-type things through. She could handle it.
When they walked into Crazy Joe’s, not much more than a shack off the highway, Justine covered her mouth and stifled a cough. “Is it legal to smoke in here? People are smoking. A lot.”
“It’s a bar, princess, not a cotillion.”
“Do you even know what a cotillion is?”
He looked at her and sighed. “Would you like something to drink?” He held up a hand toward a waitress with green hair cropped in a pixie cut.
Justine ordered a glass of water and eyed it when the green-haired waitress plopped it on the table. “Wow. This is…wow.” Cloudy with a tinge of pink, she could imagine an entire ecosystem lurking within. She pushed it aside and pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag. “Okay, Liann Linell. Where do we look?”
“We can start with her ex-agent.”
“Hmm. And her ex-husbands, maybe she sends them alimony checks.”
Sawyer nursed his soda, coming up with a list of people who might still have contact with Liann. Eventually, they both ran out of ideas and sort of looked at each other, dissatisfied their search wouldn’t be so easy.
“It’s too bad they don’t have an island where they send aging movie stars.”
“She’s in her late forties. It’s not like she got her break in silent films.”
Sawyer chuckled into his soda. She glanced around the smoky bar, but didn’t find anything amusing. “What?”
“You should’ve seen your face this morning when our office went missing. Trying to figure out what the hell you’d done. That’s how I feel, ninety-five percent of the time since you started working.”
She glared at him, but gave up on withering him with her gaze when he only laughed more. “If you’re just about finished mocking me, I need to find the ladies’ room.”
He pointed behind her. The bar was long and narrow, like a box. At the end were the restrooms.
She opened the door carved “Chicks” and looked around with distaste. Her feet stuck to the floor with every step while rust stains ringed the sink. She checked her lipstick in the distorted mirror and tried to think of some small detail about Liann that might help. Maybe her mom would be able to remember her, too.
What the hell? She might as well ask. She pulled her cell out of her handbag and dialed Thea’s number. When a tall brunette in a short black skirt walked in, Justine stepped into the corner and lowered her voice. “Hi, Mom. Listen, I need to ask you a question. Do you remember Liann Linell?” She toed a stain on the floor, scrubbing at it absently with her shoe while her mother began a long rant about the woman. “Okay, Mom, tabloids aren’t always true. Case in point, me.”
The other woman washed her hands, puckered at the mirror, and then turned to look at Justine. She barely heard what her mother said as she studied the woman watching her.
“Yes, Mother, I know. Do you remember where she was from or if she had some place special to her?” This happened on occasion, some rude person wanted to ask her about the sex video or who she was dating or if she had put on a show for the camera. She might as well get this over with. “Know what? Call me if you think of anything. And don’t tell Daddy.”
“I’m Stephanie.” The woman turned back to the mirror and fluffed out her long, brown hair. “Of course, you don’t know who I am. Lucky me, I asked for some extra shifts, and now I can say hello. I know who you are.”
Justine crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the sink. She hated when people recognized her and acted like they knew her whole life. “And who am I?”
“The one who took him off the market. He’s pretty good, isn’t he?” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. The claws were coming out.
It took her a minute to realize the woman wasn’t talking about Justine’s notoriety. A pang shot through her when she realized the teeny-skirt-woman referred to Sawyer and his skills in the back seat of a limo. Or anywhere, probably. She shook her head. “We’re not together. I mean, we’re here together, but we’re not together like that.”
Hand on her hip, the woman scoffed at her. “Well, let me give you some advice, muffin. Don’t play hard to get for too long. Guys who look like that don’t have to wait.”
“With women like you around, I’m sure that’s true.” Justine breezed past her. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
She exited the bathroom, scooted into the booth, and looked at Sawyer. “Is this where you come to pick up women?”
He choked on his soda. “Where I what?”
“It’s a simple question. How many of the women here have you slept with? According to the bathroom wall, you’re the man to see if I want to have a good time.” A white lie, but she didn’t want to tell him she’d been given a put-out-or-get-out-of-the-way ultimatum.
Sawyer had told her, at the hotel, what he thought of her, that he was attracted to her. And, God knew, she wanted him. But she also liked him and didn’t need some jealous psycho in tacky clothes jumping into such a delicate jumble. Why would Sawyer even bring her here?
His gaze skittered around the room. “I don’t…” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re being a smart ass again, huh?”
Justine shrugged in feigned innocence.
“You’re not like anybody here. If you think I brought you to this dump to put the moves on you, then I didn’t leave you with much of an impression of my skills.”
Past him, at the bar, the woman from the bathroom shot them dirty looks. Justine wiggled her fingers hello. Sawyer twisted away from her.
“Ah.” He stood and grabbed his glass. “Refill. Excuse me a minute.”
He approached the brunette; they spoke for a few minutes. The woman turned to glare pointedly at Justine then poked him in the chest.
What kind of place was this? It had never occurred to her that he brought her here to do anything but work. An odd choice, but this place was away from the office, Travis, and her father.
Something was going on with the chick at the bar. Then there had been the woman with the yellow dress, in his hotel room. And Justine.
He tried to tell her that wanting her was random and unimportant. Maybe he meant she was random and unimportant. Now she felt slutty-heiress-in-a-sex video trashy. He’d never made her feel that way before.
Justine stood up. She was so not doing this. This sort of thing got her on the front page of a tabloid. She could see the catfight pictures already. Plus, she’d been raised by her sweet grandmother and a beauty queen; she wasn’t entirely sure she could take that chick in a fight.
Determined to breeze past the two of them, she didn’t stop until she stepped out the door where Sawyer grabbed her by the elbow. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going home.” She eased her arm from his grip.
“Why? We’re working.”
“Then I’m going to go back to the office, where it’s relatively safe, and the people who don’t like me at least have reasons which I understand. I have no idea what the hell I stepped into, but I don’t need this. I’m leaving.”
“Yeah.” He jerked his hand away and looked at her in disdain. “You don’t belong here, anyway.”
“I can’t see myself belonging anywhere in your world.” She bit her lip and struggled to regain control.
“Come on, princess. Let’s go back to the office,” he said, holding a solicitous hand toward the sidewalk.
“Stop calling me that!” She took a deep breath. “You know what? I think I will go home and make some phone calls from there, see what I can find.” She took a backward step and pointed to the bar. “Don’t miss an opportunity on my account.”
He called after her, but she turned and held up a hand to warn him off. “I know my way home. See you tomorrow.”
Justine took a cab to her apartment. Inside, she tossed her purse aside, and it slid to a stop near the window.
He ran so hot, sometimes. He sure as hell could make her blood boil. But then, reality reined her back in when he could be so cold, flicking it on and off like a switch.
Everything in her demanded she steer clear. She could work with him. She just needed to maintain a professional distance.
****
In their bare and still packed office, Sawyer waited anxiously for Justine. At this point, he’d go along with whatever she wanted for the show because he’d hurt her. His mind replayed their last moments outside the bar. He’d had no right to get pissed at her. He should’ve kept her as far away from that place as he could manage.
Stephanie didn’t work days. He went there so much, he had been confident taking Justine there. But hell. It was a dump. Dark and dirty, like him. He could buy expensive suits and show up for work every day, but he couldn’t ever get away from who he really was.
When she walked in, a slim, blue dress caressing her and a thick braid over her shoulder, his thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She offered him a cool, polite smile. He missed the warm version, the one that made her eyes twinkle.
“We need to talk about yesterday,” he said.
“No, we’re good.” She opened the lid on her new laptop, which had come with the new office.
“I didn’t take that woman home with me. Or anywhere.”
She jerked her head up and smoothed the discomfort on her face with a smile. “That’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have even said anything. I apologize.”
He stalked across the office, shut the lid of her laptop, and leaned on the desk. “Would you look at me?”
She leaned back in her chair and met his gaze with wariness.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…” He grasped for the right word. He still didn’t know. He just wanted to fix it.
“Don’t be.” She shook her head. “No, let me finish. Don’t be sorry. What you do is none of my business. I can’t play this game. I’m not any good at it.” Her voice was strained. “This job matters to me, and since the odds that I’ll manage to not screw one thing up are slim anyway, I’d be stupid to try for two things. Does that make any sense?”
“None.”
“I have to focus on this show. I can’t let myself be distracted by whatever this is that’s happening between us. See how bad I am at this?” She chuckled. “So my mom called last night, and she remembered where Liann Linell’s hometown was. I think we should start there.”
“Where is it?”
“You’ve never heard of it.”
“Why don’t we hire a private eye to find her?”
“Because the less people who know about this, the better. This will only work if it’s a secret with a huge reveal when we get her. Plus, I don’t want my father to call her first. I don’t want him backseat driving on this. If I fail, then I do it myself.”
“All right, fine. I’ll buy the plane tickets. I’m good at that. You go pack so you’re not an hour late for the flight.”
“I packed last night. You go pack, and I’ll buy the tickets.”
He held up his phone on the way out. “Call me with the time.”
Three hours later, they were flying toward Greasy Ridge, West Virginia.
He leaned closer to talk to her. “Tell me again. Why would anyone who escaped a town named Greasy Ridge go back there instead of swimming laps in her pool in Beverly Hills?”
“When a person wants to get away, they go home.”
“Why couldn’t she be from Vegas?”
“She’d be a lot harder to spot in Vegas than in a town of less than a thousand people. Count your blessings.”
After they landed, Justine rented a car and bought a map, since they both doubted there would be much cell service where they were heading. She looked through the papers from the rental and tossed him the keys. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”
After an hour, Sawyer started to wonder if they were lost. After two hours, when the houses thinned out until he could just make them out through the trees, he got worried. Just short of three hours, he pulled over to the side of the road and took the map.
He studied it for five minutes before he found the little red dot that signified Greasy Ridge. They weren’t far now, but that dot was small.
She took the map back with a flourish. “I told you I could navigate.”
“Yeah, yeah. You think a place like that has a hotel?”
“They have one, and we have reservations, although I got the impression we were the only guests. Also, room service is highly unlikely. But it’s okay, because I was told there’s a diner across the road.”
“Great.” He wondered why he was even here and came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was traipsing to the middle of nowhere to look for a former movie star who’d probably never agree to be on a morning talk show. Why? Because that’s what Justine wanted.
He looked around. The trees shaded the road, and sunlight glinted through the leaves. Nothing ahead of them, nothing behind them. He turned to her, but he didn’t know what to say except maybe I’m in trouble, and he couldn’t tell her that. He realized that he wanted her to succeed. For the show, sure. But also because that’s what she wanted. Maybe even what she needed in her life now.
At some point, her wants and needs had become a factor. Trouble.
She narrowed her eyes, thoughtful. “Do you think we need a cover story?”
He eased the car back onto the two-lane road. “I think you need to stop pretending we’re secret agents.”
“You’re so clever.”
“Listen, if we need a cover story, I’ll figure something out. I’m good with this stuff.” He should be. He’d gotten into far less trouble as a kid than he deserved because he could talk his way out of anything.
They approached a gas station, the first sign of life for the last thirty miles. The pumps, old and grimy, were the kind with numbers that clicked over instead of digital. He hadn’t seen one of those since before he could drive.
He pulled in and filled the tank while Justine headed into the store. In a flowing green top with long fluttery sleeves tied at the neck and silver pants tapered down her long legs, she didn’t belong here. Probably her idea of casual wear.
Once inside, he ignored his company credit card to pay in cash. He would love to stick Daniel with the bill, but using a credit card was like drawing an arrow on a map. We are here. He’d have to tell Daniel where they were, eventually. But not until he asked. And Sawyer hadn’t had service on his phone for several hours.
Justine charmed the older lady in a red-checkered apron behind the counter while he fueled up. They were laughing like old friends, until Justine said, “Do you know where Liann Linell is from? We heard she grew up here.”
The woman’s face shifted from smiling and warm to neutral, a touch cold. “I don’t know nothing about that woman.”
Justine’s smile faltered, but she pressed on. “Well, it’s not like we want to bother her or anything. I’ve known her since I was a little girl.”
The woman squinted at Justine, studying her face. Sawyer grabbed her by the elbow. “Thanks for the gas. Come on, sweetheart, we’ve got a long drive still.” He waved with a smile. “Bye, now.”
She let him steer her to the car. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you had a wonderful reason for jerking me out of there, like maybe you saw a road sign that said, ‘Liann Linell, fourteen miles’.”
He pulled back onto the road and glanced in the rearview. “You can’t go around telling people who we are looking for. One of two things will happen. They’re either going to think you’re stalking Liann or you’re going to have to explain how you know her, and then the whole top secret stuff is blown to hell. You’re not inconspicuous.”
“Maybe I need new clothes,” she said, with a frown at her get-up.
“Yeah, that’s what you need. More clothes.”
“See, we do need a cover story.”
“Follow my lead, okay?”
She shrugged, which probably meant she’d do whatever flitted through her head. He had serious doubts about her judgment ever since he’d met her. Taking her on this road trip made him doubt his own, as well.
The houses got closer together, and the road widened as they drove into Greasy Ridge. Population twelve, he guessed. She pointed to the hotel, not that he could’ve missed the only two-story building in the town they’d drifted into.
Without a word, she followed him inside to check in. A girl in her early twenties popped gum and stared at a small television behind the counter.
When she ignored them, he cleared his throat. “Hi, excuse me. Yeah, we have a reservation.” He looked back at Justine. “Which name?”
“Yours. Heathcliff Sawyer.”
“What?”
She leaned on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “People know my name, and I don’t know your first name. So I made something up.”
“Heathcliff Sawyer.” The girl had turned back to her TV already, and he must sound like an idiot saying it.
She flipped through the book in front of her with a belabored sigh. “Yeah, fine. Two rooms, ninety-four bucks.”
He handed over the cash and glanced at Justine. “You didn’t want to share a room, Bernice? Split the cost?”
Her eyes narrowed at the outlandish alias, but she kept quiet.
Sawyer took another hundred out of his wallet and asked the girl, “You grow up around here?”
She popped her gum. “Nah, I had to move here when my boyfriend got me pregnant. He got a job in the factory. Now I’ve got three of ’em. Kids, not boyfriends.”
Justine chimed in, “I love kids.”
“You got any?”
“No.”
“There ya go.”
“Oh.” Justine blinked at her.
The hundred hanging out there, under the clerk’s nose, seemed ridiculous now. “Liann Linell grew up around here.”
She eyed the cash with suspicion. “What’s this money for? Because I’m married now.”
Justine rolled her eyes at Sawyer in exasperation. “Oh, no. We want you to talk to us. The lady at the gas station wouldn’t talk to us, so he’s offering you money to answer our questions.”
“Oh. Oh, that. Yeah, they’re all real protective. They act like she’s a damned endangered species.” She took the hundred. “So, ask. If I know, I’ll tell you.”
“Does she live here now?”
“She comes and goes.”
“Where does she live when she’s here?”
“I don’t know that. She doesn’t come into town much. You hear things, like ‘Lynn got in last night, she needs supplies,’ things like that.”
“Lynn, that’s what they call her? Is she here now?”
“Not that I know of.”
Justine sighed and turned away, but Sawyer spoke up, “Where did she grow up?”
“There’s a house, past the edge of town. I think it used to be white or gray, but it doesn’t look like much of anything now.”
“How do we get there?”
“Keep driving. There’s one main road through town. Once you leave town, take a left past the bus shed. It’s a dirt road.”
He looked at Justine, “We’ll check it out in the morning.”
“Sure thing, Heathcliff.”
****
The two of them walked across the street to the only restaurant, a diner in a long, silver converted subway car. Justine vibrated with excitement. They were a world away from freak exes, her father, and mean girls in bars, and maybe that much closer to finding Liann Linell.
She picked up the menu, not really reading it. What would she say to Liann, when they found her?
“Would you look at this place? How pink is this?”
“Very pink,” she said, not bothering to look around.
“Think a burger is a safe choice?”
“Hmm?” She looked up at Sawyer. “Sure, burgers are hard to screw up.”
“You’ve got stars in your eyes.”
She crinkled her nose, self-conscious. “I’m excited. This could be such a good thing.”
“Yeah, could be good. Could also suck.”
“Ugh, don’t say that. Talk about something else.”
Sawyer spent most of the meal talking about people from the office to distract her. Justine threw back her head and laughed when he told her about the marketing woman and the mail-room guy who got caught making out under someone else’s desk. “You’re a closet gossip!”
“I just listen. People have conversations in front of me like I’m not even there.”
“That’s a fabulous testament to your sparkling personality.”
He picked up a fry and pointed it at her before devouring it. “You pay attention to people around you and keep your mouth shut; you can pick up a lot of information. You’d have to practice the keeping your mouth shut part.”
“Ha. That’s cute.” The burger was one of the best she’d ever had, and she finished every bite. For the first time, she glanced around her, noticing the other people sitting in booths and at the counter. “People are giving us looks.”
He sat back in his chair and gave her the once-over. “It’s you, Bernice.”
“Are the clothes that bad?”
“Not bad. And not the clothes. You.”
She lowered her gaze because she didn’t want to go anywhere near a personal conversation. He’d toss some off-handed compliment at her. Next thing she knew, she’d mention how much she wanted to stumble back onto his lap, preferably in a way that caused their lips to tangle together. And that couldn’t happen again. “We should go to bed. Sleep. In our rooms.”
When she dug through her purse to pay for dinner, Sawyer took the ticket. She caught up at the register. “I was going to get that.”
“I’ll expense it. What’s the difference?”
“Then I’ll expense it. Stop trying to take care of everything.” She hated that he needed to be in control; it reminded her of her father.
He studied her for a few seconds. “Didn’t know I was.”
They crossed the street, shoulder to shoulder, and he spoke up in the parking lot. “Hey, Justine?”
“Hmm?”
“Yesterday at the bar, I—”
She stepped away from him, horrified. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Yeah, but I’m sorry. You don’t belong in a place like that.”
“You said that.” She tilted her head, avoiding his gaze. God, if she could fall into a deep hole right here in the asphalt that would be fine.
“What the hell does that mean, anyway? Why don’t I belong? There’s no difference between me and that mean girl and…I don’t get it.” She didn’t belong because he worked with her, and that would make it messy. As far as she could tell, that was the only difference between her and any other woman. She didn’t even know why it bothered her so much. He wasn’t her type. He was too in-control and distant. Too much like her father. He trailed behind her, up the stairs to the second floor open walkway. “You’re smart and…”
“And what? I’m not the girl you pick up at a work party, apparently. Not the girl you pick up at a bar full of people who go there to get drunk and laid. Which girl am I? I’m no different than either of those girls, so why? Why don’t you think I belong there?”
“I don’t get drunk, ever.” At her door, he stopped, gesturing at her. “And look at you.”
She dug into her purse for the key on the big black key-chain, rolling her eyes. Why was she doing this to herself? She didn’t need him to feel something that desperately, did she? She should be thankful he had walked away from her, hadn’t taken her to bed like she’d begged him to do. Because this would feel a lot sleazier then. “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Sawyer drew his brows together and hesitated. “Classy. You’re too classy for a place like that.”
“Old ladies are classy,” she snapped. Why couldn’t she find her key and end this hell?
“Not the way you’re classy. I’m not kept up nights fantasizing about old ladies’ underclothes.”
She dropped her purse in surprise and stooped to snatch it. Oh, God, why couldn’t he stop? Sure, now he said he wanted her. But tomorrow, he’d do something to let her know how not a big deal that was.
Hunched down in front of her, he stuck her wallet back in the purse, trying to help. “I keep saying the wrong things.”
“That wasn’t…it’s not wrong.” She could smell his soap or cologne, something. Whenever that scent struck her, she wanted to lick his neck. Just to experience what the scent of sexy tasted like.
“Yeah, well. I got the message yesterday. Guy like me… You don’t think of me that way. Not when you’re sober.” He let out a harsh laugh.
“That’s not in any way true.” How had he not seen how much she wanted him all over her face whenever she got close to him?
He considered her for a moment, searching her face. “I want to get you out of those expensive clothes.”
She froze and took a jagged breath.
Sawyer slid a hand behind her to pull her ponytail over her shoulder and run the curls through his fingers. “I want to mess up your hair, fist it in my hands while I kiss you until you can’t think.”
As he toyed with her curls, Justine blanked. At that second, she’d have said yes to anything he asked of her. She stood to open her door then turned back, unsure what would come out. “I can’t think right now.”
With a tilt of the head, he leaned in. “I’m going to kiss you anyway.”
A voice in the back of her mind told her she was going to have to practice telling this man no. He pressed her to the wall, sucked at her bottom lip, ran his tongue across it. Heat blasted through her.
Sawyer tugged her through the open doorway. He kicked the door shut and backed her against it slowly. Pale streetlight from outside the window cast them in shadows. The weight of how much she wanted him almost crushed her. They kissed and, despite them both being fully clothed, she felt vulnerable. Naked.
His hands pressed flat against the wall beside her, his breathing as uneven as her own. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Tell me you want me. That you think about me touching you, that it keeps you up at night. Tell me it’s not just me.”
“I do.” Her voice came out fluttery.
He ran a hand through her hair, toying with the ends. “I wonder things, like how you sound when you’re excited and…”
She put a finger to his lips, still moist from their kisses. “Stop saying things like that. I don’t want to know because then I won’t be able to stop thinking about you thinking those things.” She tilted her head back against the wall and steadied a hand on his chest. His muscles bunched beneath her fingers. She needed to think. She needed to process all of this and…
He lifted her hand, nuzzling the sensitive skin on her wrist, which sent a quiver down her spine. When she couldn’t take any more, she withdrew it from his grasp. And Sawyer was there, picking up where he left off, with a leisurely, complete, thorough kiss. And, oh, she kissed him back. How could she not? His kiss, it was everything. Like something in her, that had been off her whole life, snapped into place.
Her heart jittered in her chest and propelled her past the desire, past the panic gnawing inside because she wanted more of him. She wanted to touch him and taste him and be filled by him, but even more beyond that.
He tugged the strap of her top, untying it, and grazed her neck with his teeth. Every nerve ending in her body snapped to attention.
Her shoulders hunched up and she jerked back, clutching her shirt close. “I can’t breathe.” She pushed past him and looked around the dim room, lost. “I can’t do this.”
Behind her, he rubbed her shoulders. “You’re making this more than it is. We need to let it happen, get it out of our systems.”
She whirled on him, eyes wide. The thing inside her that had threatened to explode for the last few minutes suddenly constricted, crushing her chest. “Oh, my God. I thought we had this conversation already. At the hotel. No, that’s right. I talked. We kissed. You left.” She twisted away and tied her shirt behind her neck. “Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything to you, but it would to me. And, I guess, if it wouldn’t to you then that’s another reason we shouldn’t do this.”
“Jesus. You don’t want a relationship. That’s not where this is going.”
“It’s not going anywhere. Because I’m not some random chick in Greasy Ridge, West Virginia.”
“No, you’re Justine Montgomery. You’re better than that.”
“I am better than that. You’re better than that.”
“This is a train wreck.” He squinted at her. “You don’t want this, that’s fine. But you keep telling me you do. When I kiss you, you kiss me. I’m not pushing something you don’t want, so what’s the big deal?”
“Let me make it simple.” Her voice rose, “You don’t shit where you eat.”
Sawyer stared at her like she’d slapped him. Then his face shifted into nothing, no feeling, just blank. “Good point.”
He slammed the door behind him, and Justine winced. Everything in her screamed that this man was all wrong for her. But she wanted him. When he came close to her, she couldn’t even breathe. And she could do nothing about it unless she wanted her heart trampled. She fell face first onto the bed and screamed into the pillow.