I refuse her money, but head for the door. “On it.”
While in the hallway, I use the time to explore the layout of the hotel. I note where the fire exits are, the distance of each stairwell to our room and the location of the janitor’s closets. Then I go to the vending area and get Taylor her beverage.
Back inside the room, Taylor doesn’t even glance up as I set the drink on the desk beside her. She’s furiously tapping at the keys, an adorable look of concentration on her face. Her hair is pulled tight into a ponytail that hangs down her back. I sit down on the couch, feeling useless.
Taylor’s insistence that I needed sex bothered me. At first it was funny, until I realized what kind of a guy it made me in her eyes. This girl was fucking with my head and I never doubted myself. Ever. And that look on her face when she thought I’d slept with that girl last night? She looked so hurt. Even though she acts sarcastic and tough, there’s something she’s hiding, and I don’t want to hurt her, which is why I need to stay away from her. She’s far too fragile. We’re partners on an assignment. Nothing more.
Chapter 15
“Got it.” Colt strolls into the room, looking quite pleased with himself and waving a key card at me.
“How?” I thought breaking into Lars’ room would be the hardest part.
“Young girl working at the reception desk. I told her Lars was my uncle and even though it was against policy, I sweet talked her until I got it.”
I shake my head. Of course he got it.
“The cleaning service comes through in a little while, so hopefully he’ll leave during that, and we can slip in.”
I nod my consent, but my stomach curls into a tight knot.
Colt’s tense and on edge, constantly leaving the room to do God knows what, but he bursts in a little while later and motions for me to come with him. “Come on. He went out.”
I scramble to my feet. It’s show time.
We take the stairs two floors up to Lars’ room and Colt delicately slides the card into the card reader. I hold my breath, waiting for someone to bust us. But the light flicks to green and the lock clicks open. My breathing is shallow as I follow Colt inside the room. It’s similar to ours, but with a large king-size bed unmade in the center of the room. My eyes meet the laptop sitting on the desk. I begin working right away, not needing any prompting from Colt. I want to get this done as quickly as possible and get the hell out of here. My hands are shaking as I insert the jump drive into his USB port. I wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans and force a breath into my lungs. I can do this. It will only take a few minutes.
Colt paces the room, throwing glances my way to check my progress. He doesn’t have to tell me to hurry, it’s written all over him.
I punch in a string of commands that will launch the tracking bug I’ve created. Colt leans over my shoulder to watch as I finish up, and pull the jump drive free of his computer. “Almost done,” I assure him.
A noise at the door startles us both. Someone’s trying to come in. Colt grabs my elbow and hauls me to my feet. I drop the jump drive and it clatters to the carpet, landing somewhere under the desk. I jerk towards it, but the door has clicked and is about to open. Colt pulls me toward the bathroom just in time. He ushers us to the bathtub and pulls the curtain to conceal us both. My heart thunders in my chest. I’m praying that it’s just the maid service, but it’s quiet. I hear keys clatter to the dresser, and the TV flips on a second later. Shit.
Colt holds me close to his body, partially shielding me behind him, my back is pressed against the cool tile wall.
Lars has turned on a sitcom and the laughter from the television is disturbing. There is nothing funny about this situation, it seems so out of place. The footsteps advance toward us, and Colt’s grip on my hips tightens, pulling me in closer to his body. I’m pressed up against his firm chest, and even though I shouldn’t, I somehow feel safe.
The bathroom light flicks on overhead and my knees go weak. Colt’s arm around my waist supports me from falling.
The porcelain toilet seat is lifted and a loud steam of urine pierces the silence. Lars is mere feet away. I breathe as quietly as possible, terrified the sound of my labored breathing will somehow give us away.
Colt reaches up, dragging his fingertips along my back. I can feel the heat from his fingers on my skin, despite the thin material separating us. He continues lightly rubbing my back. At first I think he’s doing it to keep me calm, but then I feel him trace his fingertip along my spine, spelling out the word shhh.
I press my lips together, smiling while my heart pounds erratically. Who knew I was such an adrenaline junkie?
A second later, the toilet flushes, and I drag a ragged breath into my lungs, unaware I’d been holding my breath.
We wait for several agonizing seconds in the, but Lars’ footsteps can’t be heard. He’s still in the bathroom with us.
The shower curtain flings open.
I recognize Lars from his photo. Bald head, dark, unfeeling eyes. And he looks pissed.
For a tense moment, we stand and stare at each other.
Lars steps forward. “Who the fuck are you?” I stumble back, but Colt snakes his arm around my waist, keeping me upright.
Colt springs forward, knocking Lars out of the way and we flee from the bathroom. Colt pulls me toward the door, but I’m stopped hard in my tracks. Lars has grabbed me by the neck, his fingers biting into my skin, pressing against my windpipe. I stumble back toward the wall.
Holy shit. Is this really happening?
I claw at his fingers. Can’t breathe. Need air. Now. Colt grabs Lars like he weighs nothing at all and deposits him across the room. I rub my neck, sucking down lungful’s of air. My heart gallops at an alarming pace while I watch them struggle.
Colt hits Lars in the jaw, the collision knocks his head back violently. They tumble toward me. Lars meets my eyes and grins. He leans back and sends a kick straight at my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. His hit knocks me back and I crumble to the floor. The shock of it leaves me breathless, reeling with pain and tears blurring my vision. I struggle for breath, but I clamber on my hands and knees, scooting myself away from them.
I watch as Colt and Lars go at each other, fists flying. I have no idea what I’ll do if Colt loses. Lars will come after me next. But Colt’s pissed. I can tell he won’t let that happen. The dull thuds of flesh connecting against flesh and male grunts pierce the otherwise quiet hotel room.
A few minutes later, Colt has got Lars by the neck choking him out from behind. And after struggling for a few seconds, Lars falls unconscious to the floor.
“Come on.” Colt pulls me up and we run for the door, heading back up to our room.
The stairs are harder to navigate this time, my legs are wobbly, and I’m still struggling for air. Without Colt helping me, I’d be jelly on the floor.
When we reach our room, Colt sits me down on the couch while he storms through the hotel room, grabbing bags, shoving my laptop into its case, and throwing all the bags over his shoulder. Then he’s hauling me to my feet again.
The trip downstairs is a blur, but somehow we reach the car. Colt opens my door and directs me onto the seat, buckling my seat belt around me like I’m a child. Only once I’m in the safety and silence of his car again do I let myself analyze what’s just happened. Without meaning to, I begin to cry. Fat, soggy tears fall down my cheeks and I struggle to breath. I’m not cut out for this. I can’t handle field work if this is what’s it going to be like. Lars could’ve had a gun. I could’ve been paired with someone less capable than Colt. And then what would’ve happened?
Colt glances over. “Are you okay?”
I sniff and wipe at my eyes. “No I’m not okay. We just got attacked!”
“I’m taking you back to the school. Assignment’s over.”
I let out a muffled sob, despite my best attempt to hold it in.
“Fuck!” Colt slams his palm against the steering wheel.
The noise startles me and I jerk in my seat. The movement sends a spike of pain through my side. Ow. I clutch at my ribs.
“Taylor, you’re shaking.” His voice is soft, worried.
He’s right. My teeth are chattering, despite the heat outside and my knees are trembling. “I’m…I’ll be okay…”
“You’re in shock.” He puts his hand on my knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll get us out of Ohio, then we’ll stop for the night somewhere. We’ll get some sugar in your system and lay you down to rest. Just hang in there for me.”
I don’t argue. I feel safe with Colt, I do, but today’s been more than I can handle. I lean my head back against the head rest, and close my eyes.
Chapter 16
I pull into the motel, letting the car roll to a stop so I don’t wake Taylor. No luck. Her eyes blink open, and she looks up at me. I don’t think she’d realized when she drifted off to sleep that her head was resting in my lap. I hadn’t minded at all.
“Sorry.” She sits up and looks around out the windows.
We’re parked beside a cheap one-story motel. The sounds from the highway hum nearby.
“This okay with you?”
She doesn’t speak, but manages a nod.
It’s nothing like the luxury hotel we stayed in last night, but after what happened there, that’s fine with me.
“Wait here.” I get out of the car, locking the doors behind me, and head into the motel’s office, leaving Taylor safely inside the car.
I return a minute later, dangling a room key from my little finger. I open Taylor’s car door, and help her out, using extra care around her ribs. With the way she’s moving, I can tell they’re already bruised from Lars’ kick.
“Can you stand here for a second?”
She nods.
I retrieve our bags from the backseat, slinging them over one shoulder, then help Taylor walk, placing one arm around her waist. I lead her to the door of our room, only a few paces away from the car.
When the door swings open, I notice instantly there is only one bed. But Taylor’s breath catches, and the fact that she’s in pain reminds me we have more pressing issues. I’ll deal with the sleeping arrangements later.
I sit her down on the edge of the bed. Once she’s sitting, I toss our bags on the chair beside the door, then I kneel on the floor in front of her. She watches me untie her shoes laces. I slip her shoes off one at a time, then peel off her socks. She peers down at me with those big blue eyes, her chest still heaving.
I wanted to punish that bastard the second his eyes fell on her. And after he kicked her, I wanted to destroy him, but I couldn’t hang around. I’d had to get her out of there. Out of danger.
Her feet dangle from the edge of the bed, and her toes are painted pink.
“Let me see,” I say softly.
She nods her approval.
I gingerly lift her shirt, and hesitate. “Do you mind?”
She shakes her head.
I pull the shirt over her head, leaving her sitting there in just a lacy pink bra, which I desperately try not to stare at. I trace my fingertips along her side, pressing slightly at the ribs that are already showing signs of bruising.
At my touch, she winces and grips the comforter in her fists.
“Here?” I ask, tracing the spot again, more carefully this time.
She nods.
I don’t allow myself to look at her the way I want to drink her in. But I still notice more than I should. Her skin is incredibly soft, she has three tiny freckles dotting her left shoulder and her belly button is the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I refocus on her as though she is a patient. Nothing more. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s cracked. You’re not having trouble breathing, are you?”
She tries a deep breath, her chest raising and falling in the most delicious way. “Seems okay.”
“Your ribs are bruised, but not broken. You’ll be sore for a few days, but you should heal fine.” I continue caressing her sides and stomach, until well after I’m satisfied there’s no real damage. Then I get up and toss her shirt on the bed beside her. “I’ll run you a warm bath. That should help relax your muscles.”
“Colt.” She grabs my hand and squeezes, hard, stopping me in my tracks. “Thank you.”
I nod once, then head into the bathroom.
I need the escape, and the safety of another room – with a locking door – to keep me away from her. It’s my fault she’s sitting out there on that bed in this cheap motel room, beaten and bruised and completely shaken up. What the fuck had I been thinking? What had McAllister been thinking? She wasn’t ready for this. I’d be surprised if she didn’t call her parents and get herself sent home the moment we got back.
I turn on the faucet in the bathtub, not wanting Taylor to wonder what I’m doing when she doesn’t hear the water running. Once the water’s warmed and filling the tub, I lean against the sink and splash cool water on my face, needing to get a hold of myself.
Chapter 17
Once Colt’s in the bathroom, I stand in front of the mirror. I look pale and stunned. My eyes are wide with shock. I take stock of my injuries, looking over my body in the mirror. My head hurts. My ribs are tender where Lars slammed into me, but mostly I’m shaken up. The sound of water running distracts me and I follow Colt into the bathroom.
Despite the rundown motel, the bathroom is clean and spacious with gleaming white tiles. Colt’s filled the tub and even used one of the little bottles of body wash to make bubbles. Heat vapors drift lazily from the steaming water and the scent of mint and lilac invite me forward.
I lean against the counter, watching Colt. I remember the way he jumped into action, his quick thinking, the way he tried to throw Lars off by acting like we were a couple locked out of our room, then saving me from the path of Lars’ hits. He doesn’t appear injured at all, no bruising, no blood. His hair is tousled as ever. He still looks gorgeous and in complete control, despite having just been in a fight.
He shuts off the water of the now filled tub and leans causally against the tiled wall, a slow, lazy smile on his lips as he inspects me. With the water turned off, it’s quiet and our breathing now seems amplified in the small space.
I look down at my fingers, suddenly self-conscious in just my bra, jeans and bare feet.
Colt comes up behind me, running his fingers softly along my injured side again. My breath catches, but I’m not sure if it’s from the ache I feel in my side or the tenderness in his touch. Our eyes meet in the mirror. His look is caring, worried. It’s a look I haven’t seen on him before.
I turn and face him, and hazel eyes sear into mine.
“I’m sorry about what happened back there. I should have never let him get that close to you.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left the port open so he could track us. I know better than that.”
He places a finger over my lips. “This was not your fault. It was your first field assignment. McAllister was wrong to send you out here so early.”
I swallow. His finger is still resting on my lips. He lets it fall away, almost reluctantly, but he doesn’t step back. Our bodies are separated by just inches.
Colt’s attention and my lack of a shirt has me flushed.
“Are you okay?” his voice is rough, yet gentle.
I nod, still looking up into his eyes. He towers above me, making me feel safe and secure in his presence. I don’t think, I lean into him, pressing my head against his chest. He hesitates for a second before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me against him. I breathe into his chest, letting his masculine scent and strength comfort me.
Something about the warmth of the bathroom, his strong arms around me, his body pressed against mine shuts down the rational part of my brain and I’m left with a strange warmth tingling inside my body. I let my hands wander to his back, over the muscles of his solid shoulders and grab onto his shirt, clutching it in my fists. I fight off the tears that threaten to spill over again and just let Colt hold me.
Colt responds to my touch by pulling me even closer. I bury my head under his chin and allow myself to be comforted by his gentle concern. I let all the emotion and drama of the day fade away as we stand together in the steamy bathroom.
Colt leans back so he can look at me. He brings a hand up to cup my jaw, and his fingers work their way under my hair. My eyes fall closed at his touch. The pad of his thumb traces across my bottom lip and a little sound escapes the back of my throat as my lips part for him, ready and eager. Colt stiffens at the sound, studying me with confusion all over his face. He blinks down at me several times, the electricity humming between us. His eyes move down to look at my mouth. Colt wants to kiss me. My heart pounds in anticipation. But he doesn’t lean forward. He doesn’t press his lips to mine. He stands still, gazing down at me with wonder.
Suddenly he lifts me by my hips, and sets me on the counter in front of him, making us the same height. With his hand on my jaw again, he lifts my chin up to meet his mouth. He brushes his lips softly against mine, almost like he’s testing me, waiting to see what I’ll do. I feel his urgency, the raw need between us, and I kiss him back. The second I respond, softly opening my mouth against his, the kiss builds.
His kiss is intoxicating, knowing and I melt into him. I feel his tongue swirl with mine and let out a ragged moan, balling his shirt in my hands to pull him even closer.
Colt stops and pulls back, confusion all over his face. “I’m sorry.” He steps away. I can tell he regrets kissing me. Tears blur my vision.
He leaves and closes the door firmly behind him.
His departure leaves me reeling and weakened. I slide off the counter, and all the way down onto the floor. Warm tears stream down my cheeks as I process that Colt Palmer just kissed me.
***
I take my time in the bath, soaking away the stress and worry of the last several hours, including both the run in with Lars and my unexpected response to Colt’s kiss, who I’ve told myself time and again I should not like. Even though he’s bad for me, I can’t seem to control how I feel.
I go through the motions of shampooing and conditioning my hair, then lather the washcloth with the body wash that Colt has lined up on the edge of the bathtub. After today’s encounters…Lars…Colt…I struggle to organize my thoughts and feelings into compartments that make sense. The image of Colt lifting me by my hips and kissing me passionately was not something I would soon forget. I lean my head back against the edge of the bathtub and close my eyes.
Once I’m through with the bath, I comb out my wet hair, and find that Colt has somehow slipped my backpack just inside the door without me noticing. Great. Had that happened when I was crying on the bathroom floor? Or when I was naked in the tub? I dress quickly in my yoga pants and a long sleeved tee.
I leave the bathroom, my head ducked down. Colt is stretched out on one half of the bed, remote control in hand. He’s fallen asleep. I tiptoe around him and set my backpack down on the floor. But in my effort to maneuver around the bed, I stub my toe on the edge of the side table.
Damn it. I hop around on one foot, swearing under my breath.
“You okay?” Colt says, launching to his feet.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth.
He makes a move to come and help me, but I hold up my hand, stopping him. “I’m good.” The last thing I need is him touching me again.
“Okay.” He takes a seat in the chair by the door, wisely giving me some space. “I ordered some Chinese food. That alright with you?”
“Sure. Sounds good.” My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, reminding me it’s been hours since breakfast.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Our food’s here. Thank God for the distraction.
Colt arranges the cartons of egg rolls, fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, and chow mein noodles in the center of the table. He cracks open a can of Coke and slides it toward me. “I know you like diet. But this has sugar. Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”
He hands me a pair of chopsticks.
I fumble with them, looking down.
“Did the bath help?” he asks, glancing up at me through his eyelashes.
I nod. “It did. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He smiles.
I’m relieved to see that things feel back to normal between us, the kiss already forgotten, which is both a relief, and sort of insulting.
He slides the container of fried rice toward me. “Eat. And stop thinking. Field assignments aren’t always like that. I know this seems crazy right now, but it won’t always. And getting some food in your system will help.”
I nod. The food does smell good. I try a bite of rice, wishing I had a fork. I manage to get some of it in my mouth, but most of the rice lands on the table in front of me.
Colt’s eyes follow my movements, and after another failed attempt with the chopsticks, he leans in toward me, taking my chopsticks. He loads them with rice and lifts the bite to my mouth. I hesitate for a second, then open it and let him feed me. “Good girl.”
I chew the rice and make myself swallow. He turns the chopsticks over to me, pushing the rice container closer. It’s nice to know that he cares enough to make sure I’m well fed. I can’t allow myself to mistake his concern for something it’s not though. I’ve seen his track record with girls. I have no plans to get on that list.
“Eat, Taylor,” he says, noticing I’m lost in my own thoughts again and thrusts the container of sweet and sour chicken toward me. “A few more bites.” He picks up the chopsticks I’ve distractedly set down and hands them to me again.
When it comes time for bed, without a word, Colt makes a pile of blankets on the floor for himself. This place isn’t exactly topping the cleanliness charts, the carpet looks sort of cruddy, but I keep my mouth shut, it’s not like I’m about to suggest that we share the bed. I’m not that stupid.
Chapter 18
I toss and turn on the hard mattress unable to sleep. I glance at the digital clock. One in the morning. I hear Colt turn over on the floor. I peek off the edge of the bed, trying to see if he’s awake. In the moonlight streaming through the curtains, I can see his eyes are open.
“Hi.” He looks up at me.
“Hi.” I giggle, feeling like I’ve been caught. “I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
I don’t say it’s because I’m freaking out about that kiss just as much as I am over our botched assignment earlier today.
He sits up, and stretches. I notice at some point, he changed into a pair of mesh shorts and a white T-shirt.
“Is there any Chinese food left?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “There might be an egg roll left.” He gets up, turns on a lamp and rummages through the containers we left on the table. “And some noodles too.”
He carries both containers over to me, setting them on the bed and hands me a pair of chop sticks.
“Thanks.”
“Mind if I turn the TV on?”
“Nope,” I say around a mouthful of noodles.
He flips on the TV, and stands at the end of the bed, flipping through the channels.
“You can sit with me.” I pat the side of the bed.
“Thanks.” He sits down, scooting up until his back is pressed against the headboard.
“Want a bite?” I offer him half the egg roll.
“I’m good, thanks.” He smirks.
We watch mindless middle of the night infomercials while I polish off the last of the Chinese food.
When I come back from brushing my teeth, Colt is sprawled out on the bed, looking a little too comfortable. I let it pass and lie down next to him.
I think about how different my life has become in the past few months. I miss living at home with my parents, I miss our pancake breakfasts on Saturday mornings, and working side by side with my dad on the computer – on things that would never get you attacked by a German jewel thief. I miss them more than I thought I would.
“Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you miss your family, being away at the school, I mean?”
He’s quiet for a second, as if considering my question. “I miss my mom. My dad, not so much.” He rolls over onto his side, facing me. “Are you homesick?”
I nod, meeting his eyes. “I guess so.”
“Do you have a boyfriend back home?”
“Nope.” The memory of Wes rears its ugly head, but I push back down.
“So what about you? After your heartfelt breakup with Bria yesterday…no girlfriend?”
He smirks. “I know you’ve heard the rumors about me by now,” he says calmly. “Not all of them are true, by the way.”
I notice he doesn’t deny that some of them are true, or clarify which ones are fact and which are fiction.
“Love is a farce” he says.
Oh, how original. A hot guy that doesn’t believe in love. I keep my mouth closed, waiting for him to explain himself.
He continues, “I mean love as an emotion, yes, that exists. I love sushi, for instance. But being in love – with one person? No.”
So he’s never been in love. I guess I haven’t really either. But I never doubted it existed. Seeing my parents together – the way my dad was an ass sometimes and my mom was calm and loving with him when I felt like storming to my room and slamming to the door –told me there was something deeper at work. Of course I loved my dad, but she was clearly in love with him. They still cuddled on the couch during movies and kissed goodbye every morning. I knew I wanted that someday. I believe in that.
“What about your parents? Are they still married?”
“Ah, no.” He clears his throat. “My mom passed away when I was fourteen. Cancer.”
“I’m so sorry.” I prop up on my elbow and look at him.
“Thanks.” He offers me a small smile. “I still miss her. That’s weird, right? I’ve lived much of my life without her.”
“That’s because you love her.” I’m determined to prove love is real.
His lazy smile captures me again, his eyes full of doubt.
I wondered how different I’d be if I’d grown up without my mother. Without her warm lap, her loving hands, her no-nonsense advice that shaped who I am today. No wonder he seemed so hardened. I wondered if he truly didn’t believe in love, or if he just hadn’t felt it in so long, he forgot it existed. It made me sad.
“Just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I don’t get how planes fly, but they do, right?”
“Wise words, Taylor,” he teases.
Jerk.
Colt raises his arm, inspecting his leather bracelet. The strings are ragged and thin. I can’t imagine it’ll last much longer. He rolls it between his thumb and finger, turning the bracelet around on his wrist.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried about your mom and everything,” I offer.
“No, it’s okay. No one ever asks me about my mom. It’s like they’re afraid to.”
I nod.
“I’d rather talk about her than pretend like she didn’t exist, like my dad does.”
The cocky, arrogant Colt of earlier who fought to protect me is gone. This Colt is softer, gentler. It’s hard to keep up with all his sides. But I like this version of him best. I like that he’s trusting me with this side of himself – one I doubt he lets very many people see.
I brave another question. It’s nice to have Colt talking and opening up for once. “What kind of cancer was it?”
He straightens the pillow under his head. “Cervical cancer.”
I’m quiet for a second, wondering why Colt is opening up to me so much. “You can sleep up here if you want.”
“Thanks,” he whispers.
“Just stay on your own side.”
“Will do. Night, Taylor.”
“Night.”
He flips off the TV, plunging us into darkness again. Underneath the warm covers, with the sound of Colt’s steady breathing next to me, I fall into a deep sleep, forgetting all about my bruised ribs, the crazy assignment gone wrong and even the kiss between me and Colt earlier, well almost.
Chapter 19
In the morning there’s an awkward moment where I struggle to remember where I am and who the brunette is next to me. Then it comes rushing back. Taylor. Our assignment. Fleeing our nice hotel for this place yesterday. I run my hands over my face. Between letting Lars get close to her and then that kiss, I’d fucked up big time.
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