She laughed. “Definitely a law. But I have no idea what some of those things are.”
He grinned back. “You know what? Neither do I, but the guy at the takeout recommended them.” He fished back in the bag and produced two slender paper packets. He held them out to her. “Chop sticks or forks?”
“Oh, forks,” she said, reaching for the wider packet. “I eat too fast to mess around with chopsticks.”
He smiled at her again and her heart did a back flip. “That’s my girl.”
They sorted the takeout boxes between them and sat, cross-legged on the floor. Jenna did her best not to think about the number of feet that had passed over the surface and the number of bacteria that had been brought in on the bottoms of all those shoes.
Ryker quickly distracted her from her thoughts. He speared a dumpling with his fork and lifted it to her mouth. “Here, try this. It’s good, I promise.”
Tentatively, she parted her lips and took a bite. The dumpling split, half landing in her mouth, and the other half falling. They both reached to catch the pastry and meat, their hands fumbling together as juice dribbled down her chin and she struggled to laugh around the mouthful of food. Ryker caught the half of the dumpling and popped it in his own mouth, chewing appreciatively. For once, she found she didn’t feel like a glutton eating around someone.
She caught him staring, a thoughtful smile on his face.
Quickly, she chewed and swallowed, wiping the juice from her face. “What?”
“I was just thinking I could get used to eating with you.”
Her stomach dropped and she glanced away. “No, you can’t. I have to leave in two days.”
“Why, Jenna? Why do you have to leave?”
Tears filled her eyes and her appetite vanished. “I can’t tell you, Ryker.”
He shook his head. “Nothing could be that bad.”
She lifted her eyes to his.
“You have no idea.”
Chapter Five
As soon as they’d finished eating, Ryker had made his excuses—that he couldn’t risk leaving Mikey alone for too long—and left. He’d not tried to kiss her again, something Jenna couldn’t decide if she was relieved about or bitterly disappointed. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She’d desperately wanted him to kiss her again, to let her relive that magical moment. Even if her head told her nothing could come of it, her head appeared to have forgotten to tell her heart.
But she couldn’t get involved with someone like him for too many reasons. Putting aside her own issues, Ryker had responsibilities. Even if she could stay in one place, and Ryker actually accepted who she was—though she still suspected the moment he got even a glimpse of what she hid beneath her clothes, he would run a mile—she didn’t think she could handle having a sullen, teenage boy in her life.
Jenna sighed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She was letting her thoughts run away with themselves. A guy she’d only just met had brought her dinner and kissed her, that’s all. By the way she was over-thinking things, anyone would have thought he’d gotten down on one knee and proposed.
No, he’d fix her car, she’d get on her way, and they would never see each other again. Ryker probably just thought she looked a bit desperate and figured he’d take advantage of that. As soon as she left, he’d forget all about her.
Trying to expel all thoughts of the tattooed young man who had somehow pushed his way into her life, Jenna climbed into bed, quickly checked her emails, and then flicked off the light. She curled up in the unfamiliar bed and closed her eyes, hoping her dreams would be kind to her that night ...
***
She woke with a start, her heart pounding against her ribcage, her breath leaving her body in frantic gasps. Her skin was covered in goose bumps, the hair on her arms and the back of her neck standing to attention. Her ears strained for any sound, her eyes wide against the dark.
What had woken her? Had she been having a bad dream? But no, she was sure a noise had so violently dragged her from sleep. She’d heard something, she felt certain of it.
Jenna held her breath, trying to perceive the sound again. It had been a loud thump against the door, as if someone had been banging to try to get in. Or had she dreamed it?
You’re in a motel, she told herself. There are always loud noises in a motel.
Someone had probably come back drunk and stumbled against the door accidentally, and that’s what had woken her. But she couldn’t hear anyone drunkenly singing, or arguing with their partner, or doors slamming, or any of the usual noise associated with someone being drunk and raucous. She remembered Ryker telling her how quiet these establishments tended to be, and how there was barely enough business to keep one motel open in the small town. Would there really be drunken people banging on other doors at … she glanced at the small LED clock … 3:23 in the morning?