Ben killed the lights and locked up, then they wrestled Josh into her brother’s Jeep and strapped him in for the short ride to the hotel.
After they led Josh through the lobby and up to his room, Josh fell flat on his face across the bed. Ben asked, “Can you take it from here? My date’s waiting.”
“Yeah. Thanks. Have fun.”
Megan studied Josh’s prone body with all those sexy muscles making their way down to his own very nice ass. Doing her best to ignore the physical desire for him that apparently hadn’t gone away, she focused on wrangling off his well-worn pair of boots. She’d never seen anything like them hiding among the slick, expensive shoes in his closet. Or the knife he had strapped to his ankle. Why would a software developer like Josh be carrying a knife?
Carefully she removed it, slid the lethal-looking thing out of the case for a better look, and then laid it on his nightstand. Weird.
Next she needed to get him out of his jeans, so she called out loudly, “Josh. Roll over. We need to unzip your pants.”
He lifted his head, winced, and then slowly rolled over and closed his eyes again. His hands went to the top button on his jeans and fumbled for a minute before he fell back asleep.
Pushing his hands aside, she straddled him and then undid the top button. Gingerly she unzipped his fly, careful not to touch anything important, and then nudged him so he’d lift up enough to slide his pants off his legs.
Josh had the physique of a well-trained, professional athlete, not a software desk jockey. And he had a few nasty, painful-looking scars on his chest that hadn’t been there before.
Not that she cared.
But she probably needed to leave before her hormones started doing the thinking for her.
When she rolled off him, Josh’s strong arm snaked around her middle and he drew her against him. “Don’t go. Wanna talk to ya.”
She wanted to talk to him too. A little coherence would be nice, though. But then, maybe he’d be more truthful all drugged up.
With Josh spooned against her back just like old times, she ignored her happy hormones and said, “Okay, so talk. Why are you here, Josh?”
He pulled her closer and sighed.
She feared he’d fallen back asleep until he began mumbling something unintelligible. But then she clearly made out “Gotta get her back.”
He was trying to take Haley away. She pulled out of his grasp and headed for the door. “You’ll get Haley over my dead body, Josh.”
Josh blinked his eyes open. The bed was soft and the sign on the back of a door told him he was in a hotel room. His things were stacked on a dresser next to a flat-screen television. His left side hurt, his head felt like he’d gone on a bender the night before, and he was starving.
When he rolled over, searing pain exploded through his arm and everything came rushing back.
He threw the covers aside with his good arm and sat up. His brain slid around in his skull once before settling enough to notice that the clock on the nightstand showed it was almost noon. His knife lay beside the clock.
How he’d ended up dressed only in his boxers, he didn’t recall. But he was pretty sure Megan had something to do with it—which meant he’d better come up with an explanation for carrying a weapon in case she asked about it. And what if she’d found the letter?
He stood and made his way to the dresser. He opened his duffel, shoved the clothes aside, and found the envelope taped to the bottom of the bag where he’d kept it since the day he’d had to break up with her.
For in case things had gone bad.
He couldn’t bear for her to never know the truth if he were to die.
The envelope was still facedown and securely taped just the way he’d left it, so it seemed his secret was still safe. He grabbed the first set of clothes his hand landed on and pulled them out to change into after his shower. After that, he’d figure a way around the loonies who lived in Anderson Butte and find Meg.
At least the crazy townspeople hadn’t left him naked out by the lake, covered in honey, to be eaten alive by mosquitoes.
Maybe he was starting to grow on them.
After a quick knock sounded, the door swung open and Meg’s sister walked in with a brown paper bag and a piece of paper in her hand. “So, you’re not dead, huh? Just lazy and sleeping in? I tried calling twice.”
“Sorry. It appears I survived my first day in Anderson Butte despite your best efforts. Do you barge in on all your customers?”
“I was hoping for the dead theory.” She moved farther inside, stopping a good three feet away like he might bite, and then thrust the bag and the paper toward him. “I’m sure you’re eager to get on the road. Here’s your bill and some lunch you can take with you.”