Ridge sent her a fatherly look and Kaia could have sworn the girl's mom literally swooned, clasping her palms to her chest, bracing her wobbly knees against the side of the building.
"Yes?" Tessa blinked.
"Could you do me a favor?"
"What's that?" The girl looked suspicious.
"At least put the phone away when you're crossing the street. I'd hate to see you become roadkill. Those buzzards up there"-he waved at half a dozen vultures circling the pasture across from the truck stop-"look pretty hungry to me."
Tessa eyed the buzzards, uneasily switched off her cell phone, and shifted it into her pocket.
"Thank you for being so understanding," the mom said, and shooed her daughter toward the parking lot.
"Hmm, sort of like the pot calling the kettle names," Kaia whispered to him. "Mr. King-of-Phubbing."
"Takes a phone addict to know one," he said glibly, not the least bit ashamed. "Besides, have you seen me look at my phone even once this entire day?"
"We were in the state park out of cell phone range," she pointed out.
"Darn. That's what I get for hanging out with a smart woman." Ridge winked and guided her into the truck stop. "But FYI, I turned it off before I ever pulled into your driveway."
His conspiratorial glance eased her possessiveness and left her feeling petty for getting jealous in the first place. He didn't belong to her. She had no claim on him. Yes, they'd had spectacular sex last night and shared a few secrets. But hot sex and whispered confidences did not a relationship make.
Which begged the question, where were they going?
And what were his plans for the rest of the evening? Was he envisioning spending the night with her? She had certainly been hoping he'd stay the night. But what if she'd misread things?
Argh! Kaia pressed a palm to her forehead. She had to get a hold of herself. Splash some water on her face. Do some deep breathing. Knock off the constant mind chatter.
"Here's your chance to check your cell phone," she muttered, gave him a quick wave, and headed off to the restroom, her mind a jumble of doubt and second-guessing, her heart beating far too fast.
When she came out of the restroom, she couldn't find him. Assuming he'd also gone to the restroom, she perused the aisles, and honest-to-Pete, she didn't mean to end up on the prophylactics aisle, but she rounded the corner and found herself staring at rows of condoms.
She was about to run away, but glanced up and spied Ridge in the next aisle over.
"Ssst," she hissed, seized by impulse.
He raised his head, grinned when he saw her. "Uh-huh?"
"Should we buy these?" she whispered, holding up the box of condoms just high enough so he could see them over the top of the shelf.
His grin spread from ear to ear. "Why, Kaia Alzate, is that an invitation?"
"If you want it to be."
"Hell yes." Quickly, he joined her on the condom aisles, plucked the box of Trojans, ribbed for her pleasure, from her, took her by the hand and dragged her to the checkout counter.
Leaving no more doubts in her mind about whether or not he wanted to spend his last night in town with her.
Chapter 22
He drove back to her house as quickly as the legal speed limit allowed-and maybe even a little faster than that. His left hand on the steering wheel, his right hand holding tight to hers.
By the time they reached her house it was dusk. The moon was so slender, barely a slice of light, and the stars were already visible.
She fumbled for her keys, ready to haul him into her house and jump his bones, but he slipped his arm around her waist and held her in place on the front porch. Night sounds came to life around them-a song of camel crickets, a blackbird's call, a dog barking lazily from a yard down the street, wind rustling the desert chaparral.
They stood together on her porch underneath the stars. He was looking at her, but his eyes were unfocused, his mind seemed faraway. She put her arms around his neck, drew his head down, and he was back with her.
Kaia wanted to ask him where he'd gone, what he'd been thinking, but before she could get the words out, he kissed her long and hard as if he'd been thirsty for years and she was a tall glass of cool water.
They were cloaked in darkness, mouths fused, bodies pressed tight. It was a goodbye kind of kiss. He was leaving tomorrow. Going back to where he'd come from.
Her head was humming. That same beautiful, hopeful song.
She should tell him about the humming. Just put it out there. Own it. But if she did that, he might not spend the night with her and she wouldn't even have one last sweet goodbye.